The Gentleman
by Shahrezad1
Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, various POVs. RedXCricket.
1. The Gentleman

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation. Heavily implied RedXCricket.

~/~/~

"…Granny?"

The name was almost a question, so plaintive it was. So that the woman in question wondered for a second not where she was, but when she was. After all, she hadn't heard her title spoken like that in years. Not since, well, since Ruby was a little girl.

The old woman's honest surprise led her to set down her tools, a red pen and a stack of what pretended to be her business budget. Sometimes she wondered if it came alive in her sleep in order to choke her, or possibly even chain her down as they were dragged further and further into debt.

Thankfully the recent addition of Mr. Booth's patronage would help tie some of the loose ends this month. Lessening the pressure that pounded behind her ears and caused her shortness of breath.

Stress, Doctor Whale had called it. She could have told him that one, without the need for a hefty fee. She was half tempted to up the price of his next meal at the diner, just for the spite of it. Especially after all the accosting he'd thrown at her granddaughter, the vampiric lech….

Oh. Ruby. Blinking at the thought derail, Granny finally responded to the girl's mournful call. Carefully. She never knew how her grandchild would react these days.

"Yes, Ruby?"

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," her permission had barely been uttered before the svelte young woman crept in. She did that fairly often, the creeping, although it was usually in the _opposite_ direction of her surrogate mother. A habit which had gratefully eased up a bit since their last blow up, the conversation that had followed regarding Ruby's inheritance soothing some of the girl's rover tendencies. Thank goodness.

"What can I help you with, Ruby?" the no-nonsense woman asked this question in the gentlest voice she could summon up. Her granddaughter still squirmed in response, and while Granny waited she took the time to examine the girl.

Ruby was dressed more simply than usual. Less makeup, elegant hair pulled into a heavy 1940's up-do. Her tight-fitting red sheath dress was still short, but classy. With the neckline of the ruffled blouse she'd thrown on top more than making up for the hem. And instead of stilettos she wore pumps, of all wonders, and pearls at her throat and dangling from her ears.

Why, the child of her heart looked like a lady instead of a tramp! Granny was so surprised that at that moment someone could have pushed her over with a feather. But the stoic matron hid this behind the fiddling of glasses and shawl, merely waiting.

"I was wondering…if I could ask you for some advice?"

"Advice?" this time she couldn't hide her shock, and Ruby's fair features flooded crimson. It was a close color to the lipstick she wore, a more subdued affair than the hue she typically sported.

"Um, never mind. Just forget I ever asked. I should've never-."

"What kind of advice?" Granny overrode with determination, silencing the girl, "is it about a man?"

The thought became words before Granny could censor them, but the brunette's shocked expression answered the question for her. Her granddaughter looked away, fiddling with the doorjamb.

"Actually…yeah, it does."

In that moment Granny was abruptly reminded of the day when Ruby realized that her appearance affected men. The attention she'd received that evening alone had filled the gap of loneliness that her grandmother had never been able to fill. Giving Ruby something to help her forget her parents' deaths and creating a rift between them which widened further and further with each daring change she made.

Up went the hemlines, down went the plunging necks. Ruby had dyed her hair to spite her, and tried out every outrageous makeup tutorial she'd found online or in magazines as an experiment in rebellion. Granny had put her foot down on the permanent things, tattoos and piercings and such, but hadn't been able to stop her from other choices. The girl would just have to learn the consequence of her actions on her own.

Which was what made the change back to startling. Something important must have caught her for Ruby to dress so…subtly. Or _someone_. But who in their little backwater ditch of a town could have elicited a response like this? Certainly not any respect for her elderly relation, Granny thought with harsh honesty, which meant that it must be a man.

"Well, I _was _married once, believe it or not. And your grandfather didn't start off as a beast of a man, so I do have _some _experience. What can I help you with? Your usual methods…" Granny trailed off, cutting her verbal blunder in half. Finishing a statement like what she'd been intending, with a _'your usual methods don't get you the man, only into bed,'_ would definitely be a step back in this situation. No, it was time to use some of the minimal tact she'd been born with, "...well, there's always the opportunity to learn new methods, right?"

Ruby smiled in relief, "right."

This brought about her own answering smile. It felt rough and ill-used, like an old coat left in storage too long, but Granny figured that by the night's end it would soften up a bit, "alright, then. Take a seat and we'll talk."

The tall brunette perched on an ottoman nearby, her legs crossed demurely at the ankle, but not without first divesting it of a half-finished knitting project, which she handed to her grandmother. It was all red, of course, the family color. And call them both crazy, but neither one of them could seem to get the tint out of their heads. Besides, they both knew that it was probably going to end up being a shawl or some-such for Ruby anyway. So better to assume 'red' from the start.

"So, tell me about this boy of yours."

"He's, well, I don't understand him sometimes. He," she tried to motion with her hands what she meant, which failed entirely. Ruby then began what seemed a thoughtful pause, until it started dragging on, with the young woman biting her lip and clenching her hands tightly together, "well, he's not like the others. Not a boy, but…"

When that dragged out, too, the grey-haired woman prompted, "but?"

"A gentleman."

"Ah," a pause. So it was the most foreign member of their species, "and you want to know how to, what's that old word? _Court_ a gentleman?"

"Yes. I was wondering…if you knew, well, you know, _how_."

"Well, my dear," Granny responded, fiddling with the knitting project in her lap, "there are two problems that make it very difficult for me to help you with. The first being that they tend to play for keeps," she shot her granddaughter a steely gaze here, maintaining eye contact until the importance of this statement was ingrained in the girl. Who finally turned away, flushing, "and second, the courting usually goes the other way around."

"W-what do you mean?" Ruby stuttered, confusion wrinkling her brow.

"They like to be the chasers, not the chased."

"Oh."

Ruby's shoulders collapsed in on one another and a look of misery took over.

Which led the old woman to remark, in a deliberately offhand attempt, "however, you're off to a good start with that outfit."

The daughter of her heart brightened.

"By the way, however did you manage to pull it together?"

"The dress is Emma's and the blouse Mary Margaret's, so I had their help," she cheerfully answered, then attempted her own nonchalance, "we based it off an old photo of you."

Granny could only splutter and stare. By the time she came to Ruby had already rambled off into another explanation.

"…and it was this really great shot where you're wearing this 1950's thing with all these straight lines, and you're looking _hot_ and classy. There was even a this little pillbox hat, Mary called it, with jet beads that spangled in front of your eyes, and long black gloves. You looked like a movie star or something."

"I…remember. It was 1960," Granny answered distantly, "before the hippy look became popular. I was eighteen years old then, I think, and I was…borrowing my mother's dress for some formal dance thing. I think I still have it, and the gloves, in storage."

Ruby seemed, of all things, actually impressed, leaning forward with her hands on her knees in interest, "seriously? You mean, you've still got it all."

"Every bit of it," a smile quirked at her lip, "I had intended to hand them down to you one day, but when you started…well, after a while I didn't think that you'd be interested in old things like that."

It was the only time she could remember expressing her own uncertainty, and Ruby's shock was almost palpable. First in the knowledge that she'd been set to inherit something so precious that her grandmother that she could scarcely speak of it. And second in the realization that she'd nearly lost that selfsame chance at earning them because of some youthful idiocy and impulsive clothing choices.

"I could still wear some of those things, you know," Ruby's whisper cut the silence between them, as gentle as a hot knife through butter, "there's still time. And, well, they may be a bit short on me but…"

"But short isn't such a big deal these days," Granny finished, wryly. But the humor had a warm aspect to it, hidden in the folds around her eyes, and her granddaughter met it with a beaming grin and a 'what can you do?' shrug. After all, if there was one thing Granny had come to accept it was that her charge had a mind and a style of her own. Too much of anything wasn't all that much of a deterrent.

"In that case I'll have to air the pieces out tomorrow. We can alter it a bit if you'd like, so it'll fit a little better in the bust. I can honestly so that I wasn't as blessed as you."

"Ha, ha."

She smirked, "we have to get our little jokes where we can, sweetheart. And this way it'll be comfortable for when you go on your next date with _him._"

That, however, didn't draw out the response she'd hoped for. Ruby became solemn and unsure, wringing her hands again as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and some irritation.

"It wouldn't really be a 'next' date, per se. More like a 'first date.'"

Granny was surprised, "you haven't snagged him yet?"

"I keep hinting, but, well," she let out a helpless shrug, "it's like I told you: _Gentlemen_, who can figure them out?"

The businesswoman smiled in commiseration, "yes, and I'm sure that they feel the same way about us, unfortunately. Maybe…I think I could help you along a bit more of you gave me a few more details about this gentleman of yours?" she queried carefully.

She nibbled on her lip and pulled a nearby afghan over herself, ditching the shoes and curling up before she responded, "I guess that makes sense. He…"

"…He?"

Ruby huffed out a breath, scrubbed at an itch in her layered hair, then began spouting descriptions like she was reciting a shopping list. All the while looking up, to the side, to the floor; anywhere but her own grandmother. If she did look at her and saw disappointment, she knew she'd only stop, "he's very old-school. Nicely dressed, very polite. Responsible, careful with his money, respectful. He stands up to people that, you know, step on his toes, but does it in this way that's…classy. Subtle."

"Heavens, you're not thinking of Mr. Gold, are you?" Granny asked in alarm. Ruby's expression was just as horrified.

"No, oh heck no! How could you think such a thing? That's just…ew," her mouth was slash of scarred imagination and Granny grimaced in response.

"Well, what was I supposed to think? You haven't really gone into specifics, and there are only so many men that meet the qualifications you've-."

"Granny, it's _Archie._"

Old eyes blinked, "Archie."

"Yes. As in Doctor Hopper, Archie. Nice man, nice dog. Always looks me in the eyes when I lean over. Never cops a feel."

Granny felt the urge to raise the price of Doctor Whale's next _several_ meals up another twenty percent. But as for Archie… the choice was certainly unexpected but not altogether unwelcome. He was, after all, a man with a decent income, a friendly attitude, and a determination to do right. He was, to put it simply, an independent, all-around gentleman. Sure, he seemed a little, well, the kids called it 'nerdy,' but there was an intelligence there that was lacking in Ruby's usual beaus. If he was given the chance to have her he would cherish the girl like the gem she was named after, as devoted and loving as her ex-boyfriends had been cruel and uncaring.

"You're not…disappointed, are you? Think it's wrong that I'm going to try and 'sink my claws' into him?" Ruby asked tentatively, and her dear relation realized with a start that the girl had been waiting for a response. Only to come to the worst conclusion possible when one wasn't forthcoming.

"Heavens no, child! I heartily approve!" she quickly assured, "I just never thought that he was your type. You've always seemed to like the scruffy, back-woodsman sort."

A mental image came to them both of a sort of broad, smiling man with shaggy hair, but they both shook it off with only a short pause, wondering where that had come from.

"In fact, I wondered for a time if Mr. Booth wouldn't suit your fancy."

"August?" Ruby smirked, relaxing at once, "I'll admit, I was tempted. Especially after all that lemur talk. But he's only got eyes for a storytelling audience and a certain blonde, so I wouldn't be worried about me stealing him anytime soon."

"I see," Granny nodded sagely, then turned back to her near-forgotten knitting, "and Doctor Hopper? Is there a particular reason or event that led to your decision to morph into a retro bombshell?"

Ruby had the grace to flush, although it wasn't so much in embarrassment this time but from gentle teasing. When her green eyes returned to Granny's they were clear and straightforward, "he just, well. He watches out for me. Everyone else thinks that I can handle anything on my own, but he'll always, you know, open the door for me. Or ask Doctor Whale to leave when he's had too much to drink and won't leave the diner," the girl shrugged, "or he walks me home after the Miner's festival-shindig thing."

_The man treats her like she's worth something_, she thought sagely. A kind of respect that she's never received before. But Ruby wasn't done yet.

"I mean, it might sound weird but I imagine just walking through the rain hand in hand under his umbrella, or talking about books. Getting him his coffee and then sitting down with him to share it. I like how he's always put together, you know? And the earnest way he's always trying to help people. Even hopeless people. Like me," she laughed, gaze and voice softening, "like even on his busiest day he has time to discuss the most pointless things. And he never psychoanalyzes you, like you're a bug or something. It's more like he's a magnifying glass, showing you what's already there that you just haven't noticed yet. His hands are soft, but strong. And his smile is sweet…"

"And he does have red hair," the elderly lady remarked when the child trailed off into silence.

"There is that, I admit," Ruby giggled, "after all, I wouldn't want to break tradition."

"Of course not," Granny grinned, like a schoolgirl, before sobering, "but you have to remember, just as Archie isn't like other men that you've pursued…he's not to be treated like the rest. You must be gentle and respectful. He won't bounce back quickly if you break his heart."

Her face was a picture of worry and self-consciousness, "so what should I do?"

Granny thought about it for at least a solid five minutes, wondering what to say and what to suggest. What finally came out was only half-born, a question and a statement rolled into one. Although she had been courted herself, once upon a time, that had been a _very long once upon a time_ ago. And Archie, well, she needed to impress upon her granddaughter the gentleness of his soul.

"I think…I think that you should be his friend."

Ruby's nose wrinkled in dismay, "you want me to friend-zone him? No way."

"That's not what I meant, I…" Granny bit her own lip in a way that she realized the both of them shared, "he will not be swayed by the, well, the means you usually go through. He'll just rebuff them, ignore them, or treat you like a lovesick teenager," the girl huffed in exasperation, "if you want him to take you seriously then you have to take _him_ seriously."

"But how do I do that?"

"Talk to him. But do less talking and more listening, for heaven's sake. Don't just flirt, but_ converse_," and there was the difference, she hoped Ruby realized. A conversation should be like the waves, an ebb and flow that was smooth and long-lasting. Not like a firework sparkler, quick to light and quicker to die, "state your opinions and back them with fact. Then listen to what he has to say on the same subject. Draw out his curiosity, and be honest with him. Make your smiles, well," she shrugged, "the way you used to smile at me. The way you smile at Emma when she leaves you a big tip. Or Henry when he tells you that you're stronger than you think, or asks if you're cold all the time with what you're wearing."

They both had to laugh at that, but quickly sobered.

"I just think that he deserves to see the best side of you. And when he senses your interest, then he'll act in an honor-bound, romantic fashion."

Ruby nodded, but in resignation, "it just seems like such a long process is all."

"The young always think in terms of time," was the gentle retort, "but remember, the more time you spend getting to know one another, the more memories you'll make. Passion can come and go in a flash, but love? That's an entirely different animal, as deep and abiding as the moon's relationship with the sun. And love based on friendship means that you'll never run out of things to talk about, and you'll never stop being interested in one another. Do you understand, Ruby?"

It took a moment, but the girl finally nodded, "I think I do. Thank you. For helping me, I mean."

Granny nodded sagely, before attempting to rise. Ruby immediately came over to give her a hand, "any time. Now let's go rummage through those old boxes of mine. I have half a mind to see his face when he catches you in that dress."

The girl's only response was a wolfish grin.

~/~/~

AN: I love the idea of Ruby going to her grandmother for relationship advice. For after having dealt with rogues, crooks and perverts, gentlemen are a little foreign to her, and Granny is nothing if not a lady with class. I especially like how she's portrayed in the show. For as gruff as she seems, she really does love her granddaughter. She's just more than a little violent and protective of her, is all. ^^; So I honestly enjoyed writing up the softer side of their relationship. :)

I also like the idea of Granny being older than she looks. Ruby has to be at least twenty-one, since she can drink, which would mean that her parents were in their early to mid twenties when she was born. And if Granny had her kids when she was in her early to mid twenties, then late sixties to early seventies isn't a bad guess. My grandparents are in their late seventies, I'm twenty-five and the second-eldest child of their first-born, so this general assumption made sense to me. Don't focus too much on the specifics, though…

Besides, we all know that they didn't age for twenty-eight years anyways, so it doesn't really matter. -shrugs-

The red dress Ruby's wearing is the one Emma wears from the pilot episode, by the way. With white blouse on top. ;) I figured she would like it.


	2. The Lady

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation. Heavily implied RedXCricket.

~/~/~

Chapter 2: The Lady

The ice cream in his bowl was melting, a kind of strawberry vanilla swirl that reminded him of someone. He couldn't really pinpoint it at the moment, however, as his mind was focused on other things.

Well, other _thing_. If a little boy could be considered a thing, he supposed.

The fact was, other than Henry's fixation with fairy tales Archie could honestly say that he was a healthy young man of ten years. He did well in school, was respectful to adults, and excelled at every task put before him. He wasn't really phased by the knowledge that he was adopted, although that little hitchhiking fiasco had certainly resulted in some changes around town, and loved individuals freely and without reservation. Sometimes more than he should, when it came to certain strangers.

Yet it was hard working with a child that was insistent that his mother was an evil dictator, out to kill them all.

Honestly, he'd told Regina a million times that it was just a phase that all kids go through. (Although the mayor's harshness sometimes made him wonder.) And Henry's maligning imagination was nothing compared to the tumultuous family relationships of some adults he could name. Heck, he'd even hated his own parents at one time. Although his nature was too forgiving to hold on to that for more than a few years.

Plus there was Emma, for instance, with her abandonment issues, Ashley and her anxiety that her child would be taken away, Sean with his lack of trust regarding his own father, Jefferson's insistence (via telephone conversation) that he had a daughter, and Mr. Gold and his own bizarre father-son relationship. Archie didn't like poking that memory much; it was hard coming to grips with a man telling you that his son wanted to kill him…

A more happy example, however, was Mike Tillman and the sudden arrival of his two children. They'd had more than a few conversation about child-rearing, and the good Doctor hope that he'd helped out somewhat.

The psychiatrist had to wonder where some of his ideas for discipline and care-giving had come from, though. He'd never really thought about having children, but maybe there was some spark of fatherly affection inherent in his personality that his own parents hadn't stomped out yet.

The idea made him wistful.

Although the path to being a father typically involved a mother first, Archie had to admit, and he doubted that would happen any time soon. It wasn't as though he was any sort of catch. The man smiled wryly and ate another scoop of his now-melted treat. It was hot enough outside that he'd ordered it in self-defense.

"Did you want some ice tea, too? You'll probably be thirsty after you finish all that."

Speaking of individuals with parent-issues…

The query made him raise his head, and immediately Archie could feel himself flush and strive for eye contact only. It was instinct, he knew, but also a sign of respect whether Ruby knew it or not. She deserved more than leering eyes and lecherous hands from him, especially after all the other men in Storybrooke exhibited their own form of manners. However…

However, it appeared that his gentlemanly instinct wouldn't be needed today. She was actually dressed…well, dressed_ was_ the key point. In a long, red affair matched by a smart white jacket, all in line with the diner's required red-and-white dress code. But she'd somehow pinned a fluffy little black veiled something to the side of her head that caught his eye, and had pearls around her neck. Shoes shaped like V's covered her feet, hiding the toes that he knew were painted to match.

Admiring whispers from a table over supplied him with names for the strangely feminine articles. _Sheath dress. Pillbox hat. Birdcage veil_.

Archie found himself gaping. A response which brought about a delighted grin from the curvy waitress.

"Wow, Ruby. You look really…"

"Yes?" she teased, moving her tray to her hip. The only thing that had remained constant from the last time he'd seen her, a few days before, were her blood-red nails. But even they seemed to work well with her new attire.

It was true: Ruby could look good in anything.

"R-really, really nice today," the therapist finally finished, after a short stumble.

She beamed almost shyly. And he realized with a start that she wasn't wearing any lipstick or any obvious eye shadow today, just some lip gloss and mascara. It was quite a change and one that made her cheekbones seem higher and expression less wry. She looked, well, thoughtful. Like an adult.

He had a hard time wrapping his mind around that thought, reminding himself very sternly that he was _quite_ a few years her senior.

"Thank you, Archie."

"No proble—ah, I mean, _you're welcome._"

The two of them merely paused there a moment, looking at one another, before a discrete cough from the counter—Granny, he thought with a blush—jerked Ruby into action.

"So! Ice tea?"

"Um, yes please. That would be, well, wonderful," the smile she'd coaxed from him received an answering one in return as Ruby ducked her head in a nod, and conveyed the message. But both, however, were nearly startled out of their wits as the owner of the establishment called out loud enough for both to hear.

"Ruby? You can take your break now, if you'd like."

"Oh! Thank you, Granny."

Archie came to attention before he'd even thought about it, "would you like to sit with me?" it was, after all, the gentlemanly thing to ask. Even if it left him uneasy afterward. Like her next response could kill or bless him, for some reason.

She looked surprised, but grateful, "sure, that would be nice, Archie."

"Anything for a friend."

He cursed the words the moment they were said, but she didn't seem to notice his inner turmoil. (What did it matter, anyway? They _were _friends, _right?_) Rather, a degree of interest had lit in her pale eyes.

"I appreciate that."

After fetching his drink and a piece of raspberry pie for herself, she took a place across from him. A few individuals at other tables watched this new development with interest, prairie-dogging until their necks were sore, but eventually turned to their own conversations. It was only then that he realized he'd been blushing.

"So, how's work?" Ruby asked casually, eating the whipped cream from the top of her baked slice.

"Um, good. Weeeell, a little stressful," he temporized.

She was understanding, "service jobs usually are. And it's alright if you can't tell me anything, by the way. I know what your work entails, so I don't mind."

He was surprised but grateful, "that's okay. I've sort of, well, gotten used to saying what I need to say without breaching any confidence."

"Alright then, what's the problem?"

How was he to explain what he was feeling in an articulate manner, Archie wondered. It took a few moments, but he finally found the words, "I…_love_ helping people. I really do. Which is great, because it means that I also love my job. But there are certain instances when…people just don't want to be helped."

It was as simple as that. And as he ended the statement, Doctor Hopper couldn't help but throw his hands slightly into the air. The words and the motion, however, seemed to lessen some of the weight upon his shoulders. When had he last talked with someone this honestly, rather than merely being the listener, he wondered?

"I can understand that," Ruby responded with quiet irony. He reddened as he realized how he could have been misconstrued.

"I didn't mean any offense! I only meant-."

She forestalled him with a hand pressed to his. He could almost feel his temperature spike at the contact, "don't worry about it, I'm not offended. It's just that I know what it's like to have to make your bed and then sleep in it."

She flushed with embarrassment, "sorry, poor choice of words. Um…let's try this differently. I," she pointed at herself, "am incredibly good at making mistakes," the young woman paused to let that thought sink in, facing him honestly in her self-evaluation, "_Granny_," her eyes flickered to the counter where the matron pretended to tally up their daily earnings, "is _incredibly good_ at warning me about my mistakes before I make them, then _pointing them out_ after I've royally messed things up. You'd think I would listen to her from the start. _But_…"

"But sometimes people just don't want to be helped," Archie finished, then felt a little guilty when she motioned toward herself and shrugged.

"Case in point."

The redhead winced.

"But you…you don't really…"

"Uh, uh, Good Doctor," the brunette shook her finger, "You're not the only one who can make observations and come to conclusions," she teased, sitting back. The singly arched eyebrow almost dared him to argue with her, stating that she was entirely innocent in the events which had occurred in her life. They both knew that he would be lying, if he did, though.

And Archie, they were both aware of, didn't lie.

It was his honesty that made him different from all the other men in their remote little town.

"Everyone makes mistakes. But it's our capacity as humans to learn from them," he said, eventually. And in her gaze he could see her take in what he'd stated and seemingly set it aside for later reflection, like a fascinating puzzle one couldn't put down. Or maybe a blanket to wrap around oneself on cold winter nights.

"I agree," her hand had removed itself from his in order to pick at the pie, and he felt like he could finally breathe again, "but that knowledge doesn't really help you with your work, does it? Not if people don't want to improve."

"Exactly," he sighed, running a hand through his untamable hair. It was more like fluff than curls, and wouldn't lay flat no matter how he tried, "I just…sometimes I want to shake people. Is that wrong of me?"

"Is it wrong that sometimes I want to slap people?" she asked tartly.

His lips quirked despite themselves, "hazard of the job?"

"For both of us, I imagine. Same reasons, too, it sounds like," she snarked, before abruptly changing the topic, "well, what else is eating you?"

The remark sounded odd coming from her, but he shook it off, "of course, there's also the clients that I'm not sure I can help. Ones that I don't know if I have the right schooling to handle, and ones that don't seem to need my aid at all. I don't even know why they're coming to me, sometimes, because as far as I can tell they're perfectly fine."

Ruby's eyes slid blandly half-lidded, tongue making a sharp little knock sound, "Henry, I'm guessing?"

"No! I mean-."

"You're not the only one that wonders about a little kid being thrown into therapy, you know. Especially a kid like him," her tone was rueful and questioning, gaze and thoughts focused on more than just pie.

"It does seem like a rather…odd choice. Given his behavior."

She shrugged, thoughtfully, then turned back to look Archie dead-on. He tried to ignore the blush he knew followed her steady look, "I honestly wouldn't worry about it too much. Just accept it as the opportunity and blessing that it is. You have the chance get to know an awesome kid like him, and in the meanwhile you're providing him with more of a father figure than he's probably had in his entire life."

_A father?_ Doctor Hopper started in surprise. He'd never thought of it that way.

"Thank you, Ruby, for saying that. I truly appreciate it."

She smile beatifically, and he felt his breath abruptly cut away as the gentle glowing beam lit her face like dawn on the harbor. Softening edges and turning her lashes up in a gentle curl. Like she'd never smiled at anyone before, and he was the sole possessor of it.

"You're welcome," she murmured. Paused, then timidly started to say something before stopping, "you…um, never mind."

"What, what is it?" he felt a sudden urge to ask and find out, as though gems were about to fall from her lips.

"It doesn't matter, I just," she straightened in her seat, abruptly as she realized that her fifteen minutes were more than up, "don't worry about it. I've got to go."

However as she was about to leave, Archie reached out to grip her hand. A move he hadn't planned but now found that he didn't want to take back, "Ruby, please. What were you going to say?"

She looked at their clasped fingers and seemed to only see the contrast, her red nails harsh against his practical plain ones, her skin as smooth and clear as his was lightly freckled. Ruby bit her lip, and Archie found himself memorizing the moment. Until the young woman again met his eyes.

"I was just thinking that…you don't give yourself enough credit. Not everyone's going to want to…to follow the straight and narrow, you know? But," she closed her eyes and forged ahead, "but ultimately that's _their _choice. You shouldn't measure _your _worth based on whether someone takes your advice. You deserve more than that, and all in all you're doing the best you can. You've done a fine job, which is more than enough."

By then she'd turned her hand around to grip Archie's, fingers resting on his raging pulse, before letting go. She retrieved the plate and took it back to the kitchen, and that was the last time they spoke that evening. Leaving him with plenty to think about.

~/~/~

AN: Yes, I was eating strawberry swirl ice cream at the time I was writing this. Muahaha. And I have to offer some congratulations to you guys for reading my writing in general! I honestly wasn't intending to continue this thing, but your responses provided enough enthusiasm that I really couldn't help myself! Thank you so much. :)

Prairie-dogging refers to when people are in a cubical and stand up in order to hover over the work dividers and gossip. Rubber-necking, in contrast, is when an accident has happened on the roadway and people slow down in order to find out what's happening, almost causing a second accident in the process.

**General ideas of what Ruby's dress looks like (remove the spaces): **

http: / www . polyvore . com / 1950s _ sheath _ dress _ jacket _ pattern / thing ?id = 7859661

http: / verysimple . it / en / 2012/ 02/ fifties-2 / img-2 /

http: / vintagepatterns . wikia .com / wiki/ Advance _ 8435

**Aaaaaand the hat with veil:**

http: / www . dawnandersondesigns . com / servlet / Detail? no=13


	3. Pearls Before Swine

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 3: Pearls Before Swine

Ruby twitched her suit jacket with barely concealed discomfort. Sure, she'd tried modifying her wardrobe recently, but this was absolutely ridiculous. Retro, yes, attractive, no. A boxy eighties-style coat complete with shoulder pads and shiny golden buttons. She'd tried to dampen its nauseating effect with a slimming pencil skirt and no-nonsense spiked heels, but even those improvements couldn't quite overshadow the monstrosity pressing down upon her shoulders.

She supposed that's what happened when a person didn't possess official 'business attire.' They ended up fishing through their grandmother's closet until they found something suitably atrocious.

Ruby sighed and wondered what she was even doing here. Cursing her clothing, cursing career day. But never Ava. She hadn't had the heart to. After all, it took real guts to ask a near-stranger to be one's representative. Especially after having been labeled alternately the town's charity case, little thief, and lucky duck. The plaintive question she'd asked Ruby over hot chocolate, her father discretely turned away as he showed Nicholas how to turn his straw packaging into a missile, had made the waitress instantly reach out. It sounded like the child was desperate, in the hope that one social pariah would help the other. And the underfed blonde had almost reminded Ruby of Mary Margaret after the affair had come out, which in turn had settled her decision.

Ruby would go to Career Day. Whether she wanted to or not.

Oh, how she hated living in a small town.

Hoping desperately that no one would see her in her current wretched getup—well, no one that mattered, anyway. Mary and Emma wouldn't care—the waitress stared the open doorway down as though commanding someone to come through it. Ava, mostly, because Ruby sensed the girl would become her anchor in this nightmare.

Instead, Doctor Hopper walked in. His eyes flickered in surprise at seeing her before an instinctual smile grew from cheek to cheek. It was a quiet little thing that stated nonverbally that he was glad to see her, despite her sudden horror at her appearance.

"Hello, Ruby. It's good to see you. Are you here for Career Day?"

Her voice was dry and cracked as she tried to speak, "y-yes, Ava Zimmer invited me. She wants to be a restaurateur."

He looked thoughtful as he took that in, bowing slightly so that they could talk as other chattering individuals filed in and took seats around the room, "I can see her doing that. She's mentioned a few times that she likes cooking things in the oven."

Archie knew more about the girl's life goals than Ruby herself did, she acknowledge ruefully. But his motion to the chair beside her derailed that thought.

"May I sit beside you?"

"Um, sure Archie."

"Thank you," he settled into the metal seat as though he was comfortably home in a cozy armchair, and talking to his favorite person in the world.

The dark-haired girl could feel her cheeks start to heat, and was instantly grateful that she'd worn foundation makeup and blush today, "so, um, who are you here for?"

"Hmm? Oh, me? Paige asked if I would come," he explained simply and cheerfully, eyes meeting hers in frank conversation, "she said that she wanted to help people find what they had lost. But that the only ones whose job description involved lost things were a Detective or a Psychiatrist. And since we don't really have a town Detective…"

Her lips quirked in honest humor, "you won the toss?"

"Exactly!" he said with a smile, glad that she was as amused as he was, "and then she said that I had a dog that could sniff anything out, which was _as good as _being a detective, so I really was the best choice anyway."

They both chuckled, ignoring curious looks as parents and children soon filled up the room. Ava had finally appeared, brother and father in tow, and was waving frantically at Ruby with as much joy as her face could expression. It made Ruby wonder for a second if she had expected for her not to show up, a thought which saddened. But any remorse was set aside as the young girl bounced up to them.

"Hi Ruby! Thank you so much for this! I really, really appreciate it."

Curse the jacket, she was happy to be here, "it's no problem, Ava. I'm glad that you asked me. There isn't another place I'd rather be."

It was the one response Ava had wanted to hear. Smiling, she nodded then took Ruby's hand in hers in order to swing it back and forth, "thanks, Ruby. Oh, I just wanted to let you know, it goes by alphabetical order so we'll be going last. Since our last names haven't been changed yet," she rolled her eyes to show the two of them how she felt about _that_, and Archie laughed obligingly, "I hope you don't mind?"

"I don't mind at all. It'll give me the chance to really build up some steam," or possibly faint, whichever one came first. The psychiatrist passed her a sympathetic look, blue eyes clear and unwavering. She could feel herself blushing again…

"Kay," the blonde bounced away, and Ruby released a breath she didn't realize that she'd been holding.

"Well, one hurdle down, another to go," the brunette muttered in a wry mutter. In the front of the classroom Mary Margaret and a volunteering nun—Sister Aislin? Anwen?—were summoning everyone's attention, but she couldn't help but attempt a continuance of their conversation.

"Are you really that nervous? I mean, it's only Career Day," the good doctor asked in surprise.

Ruby's shrug was awkward within the shoulder pads, "that's easy for you to say. I'm sure you could do one of these in your sleep—I mean, you were even the announcer when there was that election for the new Sheriff."

Archie blushed at the compliment, but added in his own whisper of confidence, "Thanks Ruby. But to quote a _good_ friend of mine, I wouldn't worry about it too much if I were you. You'll do just fine."

Ruby had to grin, "thanks, Archie."

"Anytime."

The two remained facing one another as the first student-adult pair was called up, not really noticing as someone new began speaking. And into that scenario Doctor Hopper whispered a comment.

"You know, I was thinking about what you said that other day and, well, I don't think you give yourself enough credit, either. I think that, well," he hesitated now, as though what he had to say was somewhat difficult, staring at his fingernails, "I think that you might be seeing yourself how others see you. Rather than the way you really are."

She was floored in her surprise, mouth gaping and green eyes wide, "Archie…did you just psychoanalyze me?"

His head popped up, and he opened his mouth to vehemently dissuade her before remembering their surroundings. Instead it came out as an insistent whisper, "no, I just…was thinking about you is all and I thought that, well, it would be great if all of us could see ourselves the way we really are. Makes you almost wish for a really clear mirror, you know? One that doesn't lie to y-."

"Sorry I'm late!" the mayor's voice boomed across the room, blood-red lips creasing into a satisfied smirk.

Ruby could almost feel Archie tensing beside her, and without any thought she placed her hand on his in comfort and strength. Never a fan of the domineering, sneeringly self-righteous woman, she knew that they would both be needing it. All around the room other adults and parents were alternately looking alarmed or tense, the happy atmosphere disappearing in a blink, and Emma had stood up in self-defense, arms crossed. Mary Margaret's main expression was that of surprise, but Henry Mills was looking at his adoptive mother in frustration and dismay.

"Henry asked me to come to come, but I lost track of ti-."

"No I didn't," the boy argued belligerently. Eyes bounced from one individual to the other as though it was a tennis match.

The mayor's smile became less pleasant and more grim, "I'm sure that you don't remember asking, but you definitely did. Otherwise I wouldn't have written it in my planner."

"Henry asked _me_ to come," Emma stated plainly, taking a step closer to her child.

"Then it appears we've both been called to the cause today, Miss Swan," her voice was steel, but their accidental audience could see the sheriff's desire to temper her mettle.

Which, of course, meant that it was time for Miss Blanchard to step in, "sometimes people can forget when they've asked others to do things for them. It's happened to the best of us, including myself, so there's no problem if we have both our Mayor and our Sheriff speak today for Henry. You kids don't mind, do you?"

A few shaken heads met her desperate attempt, and Ruby could almost see Mary Margaret mentally making note to slip them a treat later. As for Henry she kept shooting him apologetic looks, "of course not. So when we get to Henry _both_ of his mothers can tell us about their jobs. Okay? Alright then, let's continue. Mary Kidman? Would you like to tell us about the sheep your father raises?"

The Mayor pulled up a chair in the opposite corner to where Emma was sitting so that she had an entire view of the room, and took up her place as though it was her throne. Her long, crossed legs were like spears, tailored dress and stilettos emphasizing just how different she was from the rest of the crowd. Clothes unfortunately did make the man or the woman. Ruby sighed.

Archie interrupted her woe.

"You know how I was talking about shaking people?"

"Yeah…?" her questioning look suddenly lit as she made the connection, and had to stifle a snort, "ah. Well, in that case you'll have to get in line after I slap her first."

His lips twitched, "one has to wonder what other violent impulses everyone else might be feeling."

"You'd know better than I would, Mr. Headcase," she teased, nudging him with her elbow, "and isn't that a little out of character for you?"

"You'd be surprised," he whispered back, returning her nudge with a mischievous little grin. It nearly transformed his face, taking years and toils off of it as she was reminded of a young boy with curly red hair, catching crickets, "I'm not the angel everyone always makes me out to be."

"People are usually wrong in their assumptions, anyway," Ruby winked. Which reminded her, "thanks for saying what you did, by the way. You know, about seeing myself the way I am? And not believing what people say about me. I…I appreciate it."

He took her hand carefully within the hidden folds of their two jacket sleeves, a press of his fingers against hers, and looked at her from out of the corner of his eye, "you are welcome, Ruby. Believe me when I say that, well, we live in a small town. And people can be pretty small-minded to match. But don't let what they have to say get in the way of who you really are. Just be yourself, even if it means taking the unbeaten path. You're stronger than yo-."

"Paige, how about you introduce your guest for us?"

They both blinked at the interruption, matching flushes heating their faces. But Archie straightened out of the situation with a cool nonchalance that Ruby couldn't even hope to emulate. Especially when she was trying to ignore Regina's disapproving glare from across the room, eyebrow raised in a 'well, well, what do we have here?' kind of way.

The waitress chose instead to ignore her entirely, listening carefully as both Paige and Archie expostulated on the merits of finding things for people, whether or not one was a detective, and helping others. Which was the crux of both of their personalities—they wanted to help, and that's what really mattered. Ruby found herself smiling, lips a shade short of scarlet. And she couldn't help but think that he would be a good father one day as he absentmindedly patted Paige on the shoulder, the two exchanging equally matched beams.

And then he was sitting down beside her again. But the intimacy of their previous conversation couldn't be matched. Still, she sent him one more short whisper.

"You're a good man, Archibald Hopper."

He started in surprise, looking at her as though he'd never seen her before. Although she couldn't be sure if it was due to the statement she'd made or just the fact that she'd said his name in full, "sorry?"

"You're a very good man," she settled back in her metal chair, ignoring the way that her legs and backside were going numb, "some lady is going to be very lucky when she catches you."

It was as close as she had ever gotten so far in stating her intentions, and the ginger man flushed brilliantly for it. But made a point to meet her eyes honestly as he expressed his gratitude.

"Thank you, Ruby. Although that probably won't happen any time soon, I assure you."

The heck not. She frowned in consternation, whisper rising slightly louder before Mary Margaret's disapproving eyes toned it back down, "why not? You're a catch."

He flushed even brighter, if that was possible, "I wouldn't exactly call myself a catch, per se."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit again," she said bluntly. Earning a short laugh.

"Is that going to be our running joke, then?"

"Maybe," she admitted slowly, "but it's still true. You're one of the few gentleman left in this world. A genuinely intelligent, thoughtful, nice guy."

"You know what they say about nice guys finishing last."

"But who really wanted to be first, anyway?" she asked, hand landing on his sleeve out of sight, "my grandmother says that the young only think about time as a bad thing. But that it just…gives you the chance to make memories."

"Well, she's mostly right," he said quietly, ironically, "when you've got someone to spend that time with."

Anything else was cut off was Mayor Mills made it very plain to see that talking during her presentation was to be frowned upon. Then proceeded to expound on the virtues of taking leadership in the community, leading those who had gone astray in the direction that was best for them.

_Like sheep_, Ruby thought with a mental snort.

Emma's words covered the complete opposite. Expressing the need for there to be order and justice, for people to stand up for what they believe in and not allow themselves to be subjected to unrighteous dominion. To not just uphold the law, but to remove laws that were unjust and corrupt.

Helping people was the purpose of being the Sheriff, and helping one another improved not just oneself but the whole town.

Ruby could feel herself smiling, and she could see that Archie was doing the same. And in the back of the overcrowded classroom she could feel him tug lightly on the hem of her jacket's cuff. As though sharing an inside joke, just between the two of them.

Henry, for his part, ignored Regina and simply read the paper that he had prepared about being a Sheriff. Saving people, he emphasized, and fighting the bad guys. Helping others remember who they were, too.

The phrase struck Ruby oddly. On her right side she could hear Archie offer up his own commentary in the form of a long-suffering sigh. She had half a mind to ask him about it later…but not push her luck too much.

Even when both women and boy sat down some of the tension still filled the air, Regina and Emma exchanging proverbial eye daggers, but it wasn't nearly as bad now that they only had each other to focus on. And not the rest of the captive audience.

And a haze of children later it was suddenly her turn.

Ruby and Ava exchanged a glance that was full of underlying tension. With wobbly smiles and little ticks, the girls made their way up to the front together. If there hadn't been the gap in age and appearance she would have called them a mother-daughter duo. Instead they'd have to settle for a dissimilar sisterhood.

Ava was wearing a mismatched, oversized set of clothing, like Mike Tillman either hadn't had the time to get her something new or just didn't know what a young girl needed. Maybe he hadn't even noticed at this point, being new to the whole 'Dad' role. But at that moment the waitress resolved to take her shopping. And maybe teach her a thing or two about hair.

The resolution settled some of her anxiety, up until the moment when she looked up and over the heads bobbing throughout the classroom. They seemed a sea of criticism, too close to home to think about, and she itched in her eighties-tastic business wear.

Until crinkled blue eyes met hers from the back, merry and encouraging.

Now when the blonde child sought her for reassurance Ruby was able to hand it over in spades, grinning toothily. Ava smiled in relief, and began.

"When I grow up I want to own a restaurant. Because I love to cook, and I like the idea of making people happy."

Ruby blinked at the concept. _Make people happy?_ Is that what she did? Maybe she just hadn't noticed in her own griping about Boston and being stuck at home. Archie's comment about a 'truth mirror' flashed back to her, and she wondered if that had anything to do with it. _Had_ she made people happy? And if so, then whom?

"It's like when…when you're having a bad day and someone gives you hot chocolate and cookies. And nothing can make you worried after that. You know that everything's going to be okay," the child looked up alternately toward first Emma and then Mary Margaret. The first had her teeth gritted like she was fighting emotion, but her hazel eyes glittered. The schoolteacher wasn't even fighting it, however, her chin wobbling and holding a lacy handkerchief to her chest. _Like a lady_.

Ruby made a mental note to have a party of _four _for her little shopping escapade. It could be good for all of them.

Suddenly, however, Ava had her eyes on Ruby, "because someone has created this great meal for you and wants to hear what you have to say."

_And wants to hear what you have to say._

It was like a solid blow to the chest, leaving her winded with shock. She really hadn't thought that just talking to the girl had had that much effect but maybe…maybe Archie was right.

"Thank you, Ava. That was…that was wonderful," Mary Margaret smiled through a weepy expression, "now, Ruby, if you'd like to say something."

Ah, crap.

Her panic lead her to search for the psychiatrist again, and this time he gave her a thumbs up of all things. Which at least got her to roll her eyes and cough out a laugh before becoming serious.

All right. Time to be responsible. For once.

"I guess you could say that I became a restaurateur by accident. I intended to move to Boston but life…got in the way a bit," it probably wasn't what Ava had expected, but Ruby had been resolved that she be as honest as she could when speaking, "there were a few rocks in the road but I guess you could say that, well, the situation grew on me," a large smattering of parents in the town, her peers and her patronizers, were giving her all their attention. And Ruby speculated if this might end up being the only time she would have it. She took a deep breath, "and now I know that I wouldn't give it up for the world."

She unconsciously took a step forward, as though about to take a leap, "there's something really special about being a constant for people. When life fails, when times get hard, Granny's Diner will always be there. _I'll_ always be there," the brunette bit her lip, "it's like being a friend and a therapist all in one. You hear tons of stories and you give advice where you can." Archie smiled.

"And then there's the food—you really have to love food to go into the business. It's more than just feeding people, it's giving them wholesome meals when many times they've just got cold frozen dinners to come home to. So being a restaurateur is hard but also worth the effort."

Shaking, Ruby changed places with Mike Tillman and retook her seat, but not without patting Ava on the shoulder on the way down. As soon as she'd plopped into place, however, Archie took it upon himself to take her hand, patting it in a friendly manner before letting it go.

"You did a great job," he whispered encouragingly, "you could really tell that she appreciated it."

"Thanks," she sighed back, "I'll be honest with you, though, I'm glad it's over."

"Ah, I think you'll find that you're stronger than you think."

He winked at her once before turning back to listen. Leaving her with a burning feeling in the left side of her chest.

~/~/~

AN: In case if anyone is wondering, many of Ruby's experiences in Storybrooke are unconscious reflections of my mother's life in small town Idaho. She grew up in sticks of the sticks, in boondocks-ville off the edge of the planet, where if you made a mistake then everyone knew about it. And the harder you worked to prove yourself, the more others tried to fumble you up.

So saying, even though in the show Ruby is VERY well-liked, she's apt to see herself the way others see her. Especially her grandmother, improved relationship or no.

Ruby rebels, but it's actually relatively mild stuff compared to media's portrayal of her peers in the city (I wouldn't know. I don't party. –shrugs-). The unfortunate truth is just that she's still living at home and is stuck dealing with small-minded small-towners. –shrugs- And there's only so much censure you can take before you start believing the things that people call you.

Ava's probably dealing with the same from her peers. If you thought adults were mean, you should see kids.

Notes: ginger is what redheads are called in Britain. :) I actually don't condone talking through other people's presentations. It's very rude. –bland smile- Also, this was more fun to write than the last chapter. XD Although Archie is a darling to work with. 3 And lastly, OUAT's wiki has corrected me—Ruby's eyes are green, not grey.


	4. Recompense

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 4: Recompense

If "August" was phased by Jiminy Cricket's appearance at the breakfast table of Granny's B&B he didn't show it. Especially where, if he had been surprised, it wouldn't have been at the man's appearance.

It would probably have been at the man's appearance _as a human_. So seeing him sitting there at Snow White and Prince James' retrofitted round table really wasn't a problem. It was just a matter of reconciling the talking insect of his childhood with this friendly, congenial, well-spoken ginger sitting before him.

He was a lot less annoying than he'd remembered him being. But perhaps that was just perspective and adulthood talking.

Old habits, and memories, died hard. Pinocchio wondered what would happen to the friendly psychiatrist if magic returned. Would he be a bug again? And if so, how would the "Archie Hopper" of this world feel about that?

"Good morning," August stated cheerfully as he made his way into the wide room. Filled with heavy wood furniture that looked sturdy, long-lasting and rather memorable, plus green wallpaper reminiscent of the interior of Granny's Diner, it was a breakfast room built for a company of fifteen or more, but the two men were its only current occupants. Archie started in surprise at the greeting, clearly expecting to have the morning entirely to himself.

"Morning," Jiminy said with a dry little smile, dropping the 'good' part in a manner completely uncharacteristic. And no wonder—the man looked haggard. His clothing, normally professionally kept up and managed, were wrinkled with wear, as though he'd slept in the outfit, and his expression looked hangdog. Whatever had happened, the shrink had had a long night.

_Otherwise he wouldn't be here_, the writer's mind supplied helpfully, _he would be at home in his cozy little quarters._

August wondered if Jiminy still liked to fill his environment with shades of olive green and burnt orange, rusty red and brown—late summer and fall colors—and if he still stayed up late just thinking and staring at the stars. Pinocchio had always asked why such a small being could have such large thoughts, but all Jiminy had ever been able to say was it was so that other people didn't have to worry about them. He hadn't realized at the time that Jiminy had probably been speaking about both him and his father.

The man had retained that dapper little umbrella of his, he knew, and had taken up a loyal canine friend since settling in Storybrooke. But there was little that he'd really learned about his old companion—Booth had been a tad bit too focused on Emma lately, with good reason.

Well, time to rectify that.

"August Booth. Biker, writer, boarder of the great Granny's Bed and Breakfast," the friendly stranger held out one hand in this world's form of greeting, "I don't believe we've officially met yet."

Another inch of wood to his nose, he thought ironically, and ignored the urge to check it for growth. But then again, they _were_ meeting for the first time in _this_ capacity, as equals in age and maturity.

The other man frowned in bemused surprise, setting down the paper he'd been reading and took August's hand in a firm, respectful grip, "actually, I don't think we have. I'm Archibald Hopper. Storybrooke's resident 'Headcase'," a more cheerful expression lit his face, as though listing a joke only he would understand, "and temporary boarder."

"I had noticed that you looked a little rough around the edges, like you'd been sleeping in a bed that wasn't what you were used to," the latter man remarked idly.

"Is it that obvious?" Archie asked, weakly. As though he'd known what he'd _felt_ like, but had hoped that he didn't _look_ it. That had been an unanswered wish, apparently.

"Just a bit. But I think that you could pull off a rebel look in a stretch. Just rumple up the hair a bit and pop your collar up."

"I'll bear that in mind," he chuckled, turning back to his paper. But August could tell that he was distracted by something. Searching the room for his own paper prop, the writer simultaneously searched for the right words to ask the relative stranger…that he'd technically known all his life.

"Speaking of minds, there something on yours? You look like you could use a listening ear," _a friend to talk to,_ his mind echoed another, older conversation. _Someone to help you along when making decisions._

"Nothing much. I'd hate to burden you. It's just…" Doctor Hopper hesitated, deliberating silently between telling someone relatively unknown his troubles before sighing heavily and setting down his paper with some finality. Beside it sat a cup of something fortifying, steam rising slowly, and a bowl of now-soggy cornflakes with cut strawberries. August wondered at the visual contrast this created, red, white and golden brown not vying for attention so much as creating a balanced image. Together. Despite its parts disintegrating into despondent mush, "do you ever feel like the world is out to get you? Like anything that can go wrong, will go wrong…all at once?"

He couldn't help but chuckle as he made his way to the room's side table, helping himself to a solid portion of bacon and eggs before hesitating over his beverage choices. Finally he located the familiar jug of ice water tucked behind a pitcher of orange juice, poured himself a liberally full cup, then sat down a moderate distance away from his former companion. Stiffly.

"All the time. Me and Murphy's Law are old pals," they shared dry smirks of commiseration, Archie shaking his head at the irony of it all. But August wasn't going to let that just lie, "So what happened?"

The redhead just stared into space a moment, forefinger and thumb rubbing back and forth against one another. Pinocchio wondered if that was a carryover from being a cricket for so long, or if he'd had the little tick before he'd been changed. Who knew, maybe Jiminy Cricket had been the one to teach the others of his kind how to sing, rubbing his limbs together during an absentminded moment of abstraction?

"Silly, stupid things. Daily life things. Yesterday…my sessions ran overtime, overlapping one another," he finally said, "I didn't get the chance to eat lunch or dinner with Ru-at the d-diner," the stranger wondered if Archie had even noticed his magnificent stumble, "and when I got home I found my basement flooded. Alexis Merman, the plumber's daughter, checked it out and said that the pipes must have burst. She and her sisters shut off the water and started draining it out while I moved things upstairs. We didn't finish until late."

By the end of his speech he'd removed his glasses and was pinching the bridge of his nose, as though telling August had been like pulling teeth. And maybe it had; as soon as the doctor had begun talking about water his wooden leg had begun to ache in memory. Sometimes just thinking about something made it worse.

"…I-I think I got most of everything valuable out of the way and moved into the attic, but I can't help but worry about the walls and floors. I mean, the basement itself is tile on cement, so it shouldn't be a problem the way carpet might be, but the walls were wood paneling and I don't want them to, well…"

"Rot," August supplied, flatly. It had been one worry both his father and Jiminy Cricket had expressed often enough, telling him to dry off thoroughly after having fallen in a puddle or gone swimming with the other schoolboys. Actually in that instance he'd been more flotation device than anything else, but it had had the same end result. Worry about the state of the wood.

That being said, his experience allowed him to help the cricket with one thing, at least, "I'm actually pretty familiar with wood. If you want, I can check it out either later today or tomorrow?"

Hopper blinked at him through his blurred vision, dropping his hands to gape at August down the way of the long table, "you would seriously do that for me?"

"Sure. It's no problem," slightly labor intensive, especially with a bum leg that didn't let him bend down easily, but no problem at all if it involved paying recompense for some of his childhood pranks.

"Thank you," was the man's sincere response, gratitude coloring every word, "I'd offer to repay you for the trouble but I'm not sure what I could give that would convey my appreciation."

"Your thanks will work. And don't worry about it—I'm no Mr. Gold," they both chuckled a bit, the way adults do about the bogeyman…before said adults apprehensively throwing salt over their shoulder. And then the Storybrooke's stranger decided to push a button and see what kind of response he could get, "and besides, Henry says you're a pretty good guy. So it's a worthy cause."

Archie's smile became tempered with a kind of heavy resignation, "he said that, did he? And…did he mention anything else?"

"Only that you're the reincarnation of a bug in human form," he responded, lighthearted and neutral as he took a sip of water, "doesn't do much for a man's confidence, does it?"

"It doesn't, no," the joke broke some of the tension as the good doctor chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, "sometimes I wonder if I should even put any effort into doctor-patient confidentiality–it feels at times like Henry's theory is the worst kept secret in town."

"It probably is, with a kid like Henry trying to 'wake everyone up,'" all the while its denizens, both natural and transplanted, clearly resisted. Poor kid. He could empathize.

Blue eyes caught onto blue, "has he pegged you for anyone yet?"

"Nope, but I gave him a few suggestions," a rough smile broke across his cheeks, "Pinocchio, for one."

"Ah," Archie nodded, "putting the two men in his life that he interacts with the most in the same story. Making us friends, I'm guessing?"

"More like mischievous boy and exasperated tutor, I bet," they both laughed.

"Not Tom and Huck, then?" the psychiatrist joined in on the joshing, grin full of humor.

"More like Merlin and Wart," August said, smirking.

The former cricket hummed thoughtfully, "I don't think I would mind that so much, aside from the living backward part."

"It would be a pain. Knowing all about the future and not being able to tell anyone the truth for fear that they'd think you were crazy," it all came out in a rush, and Doctor Hopper looked at him with a certain clarity and curiosity that made Booth wonder if had some inkling of the truth.

"Much like Henry and his knowledge of our imagined roles," Archie stated quietly, and August tried to bite back a wave of disappointment. _Well, so much for that idea._

"Pretty much," he said, but it came out flat. Sensing the conversation drop, the two men returned to their meals only to be interrupted after only a few minutes of silence.

"Granny, I overslept, have you seen my—oh!" surprise turned swiftly to dismay as Ruby Lucas found herself facing two very eligible gentlemen while only clad in a white wife beater, red plaid boxer shorts, and a knee-length robe. Clearly, she'd thought that they would have cleared out by now, or slept in.

Or maybe she hadn't expected the two of them at all.

Ruby was looking at Archie as one hoping for the ground to swallow her up whole, and his face matched the streaks in her hair. With an out of character squeak she clamped her robe around her, never mind that she'd worn less at work in the past, and ran her fingers through the tangle of waves that was her hair. Clearly the psychiatrist had never seen her more natural than this, entirely free of any makeup or posturing attitude. She was off guard, and it was both disconcerting for the two of them, while alternately intimate. August couldn't help but wonder if wavy was actually her hair's natural state, just like back home, and if she straightened it here.

That and her toes were distractingly cute, tiny little red gems twinkling at the two of them from her bare feet.

"Archie, wha…_what are you doing here?_"

With a blink August realized that she hadn't even registered his presence and found himself dumbfounded. Particularly when he reviewed Ruby and Archie's matching postures of shock and acute embarrassment.

Wait just a second…Jiminy Cricket…and _Red Riding Hood?_ Wonders never ceased.

The man that had once been a wooden boy tried to reconcile what he remembered—"_now, Pinocchio, be respectful to Miss Red. She's a gentle lady and you must always treat her with respect and kindness"_—with what he was seeing currently. That is, his serene, reserved, _melancholy_ "Conscience" stutter and stammer like the smallest of young schoolboys, an answer slowly making its way to his lips. But not before he'd taken off and put back on his glasses more times than August could count.

"I, well, we didn't want to wake you. That is…I flooded. My _house_ flooded! I checked in about eleven and, well, your light was on but Granny said that you'd probably fallen asleep with it…on," he said, lamely, each sentence coming in a jumble of false starts and stops, "so I didn't want to disturb you. Otherwise I would have…told you. That I was here. Sorry to startle you."

She bit her lip some chagrin, twisting her foot around on the ball of it, then crossed and recrossed her arms over her chest as though she didn't know what to do with them. The writer, a complete spectator, was caught aptly comparing her to a wild animal, ready to run.

"Yeah, um, that happens sometimes. That I leave the light on. When I'm up late, reading," she mumbled out the words as though they were a dirty secret, with only Archie there to hear. But he was actually delighted, a pure shock to her system.

"Really? What were you reading?" his eyebrows had risen in curiosity, and the therapist had stopped fiddling with his glasses in interest, which surprised the young woman. _Old enough to technically be my mother,_ August thought in an aside, _or at least a younger sister in this world_. She still hadn't noticed the writer's presence, as attuned as she was to Doctor Hopper's encouragement. Clearly she wasn't accustomed to hearing about any degree of positive encouragement from men regarding interests of an intellectual nature, but a friendship that already existed between them helped her forget her unease.

"Sense and Sensibility," Ruby explained, hesitantly, looking at her feet. Thereby missing Booth's surprise and renewed Archie's delight, "I was to the part in which Marianne lets her anger at Willoughby go and starts to realize that she loves Colonel Brandon."

"I really enjoyed that part. She goes through quite a metamorphic change through the story."

Ruby's expression turned ironic, teasing and very much direct. It could be considered flirtatious on a regular woman, but compared to her regular forays was almost friendly in comparison, "you've read Jane Austen?"

Archie shrugged, "it was high school, a long time ago. There wasn't much else to do once I'd burned through Isaac Asimov, Robert Jordan and all the rest. The works of Poe were my next exploration, but once I was done with what a boy might call the 'serious writers' there was nowhere else to go but Austen and the Bronte sisters," his smile turned wry, "I enjoyed the former more than the latter."

Ruby chuckled and propped her hands on her hips, in the process letting go of her robe enough that it fell open. Neither one of them seemed to remember that she was still in her sleepwear, and he had just dealt with his house flooding the night before, "see, there I have to disagree with you. Austen tends to lean toward sappy endings, where everything's tied up nicely with a bow, while the Bronte sisters tend toward realism."

"Only if you consider 'Gothic Romances' realism," Jiminy Cricket teased, shaking his finger, looking and sounding younger than August or Pinocchio had ever seen him. He was actually…happy. Not downhearted, not nagging, and nowhere near anxious. The man was an epitome of joy in Ruby's presence, making him wonder how he would really react if he knew who his lady love really was.

The ginger continued his gentle taunt, and Booth forced himself to pay attention to the present.

"Austen already commented on the _tragic woes_ of Gothic romances in 'Northanger Abbey,' remember?"

"And Charlotte covered the detriments of having skeletons in the attic in 'Jane Eyre,'" she combated with a grin.

"Well-."

August cleared his throat deliberately, startling them both, and took a deliberate bite of his now-cold bacon, crunching the pieces as though they _deserved_ it. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the two of them abruptly color as they remembered that they had an audience and forcing Ruby to backtrack as though she didn't know how she had gotten there.

"Ah, crap, now I'm _really_ late. And I _still_ can't find my apron. I…" she seemed to look down at her appearance, realizing again just what she wasn't wearing, "I'll talk to you later, Archie. I've just got…ugh."

"Lunch," Doctor Hopper filled in for her, and she gave him a sharp nod.

"Sure. See you then. That is, if Granny lets me after _how late I'm going to be_," the girl muttered as she started to turn around. She did, however, clear her throat and nod at August this time in recognition, "Hi, by the way. Sorry I didn't see you there."

"It's no problem," he waved at her, giving her his most reassuring smile, "don't worry about it. You're gonna be late."

"Right," she sent a nervous look once more at the redhead before making her way back out. Forgetting in the process to grab what probably would have been her breakfast.

Awkward silence was left in the young woman's wake, and Archie coughed nervously at its presence as he pretended to read his paper and grimacing at the coldness of his beverage. By that time, however, August had cleaned up his plate and was setting it back on the side table where Granny would find it once she'd switched off with her Granddaughter.

He couldn't help himself in one degree, though…

"So…you and Ruby are together, then?"

Archie looked as though he'd been electrocuted in that moment, as dumbfounded as he was.

"_What?_ NO! We're…we're _friends_, how could you have come to _that_ conclusion?" the psychiatrist didn't look offended at the assumption so much as shocked, as though the idea had never before even entered his mind. It was as though a wall of "off limit"-ness had blinded his mind from seeing the usually clear truth: that Ruby Lucas, granddaughter of "Granny Lucas," was crushing hard on the good ol' shrink.

"Then you didn't see what I was seeing," he paused to make eye contact with his former mentor, then smiled, "oh, and you might want to ask Henry whom he thinks Ruby is. It might surprise you."

Booth left the room with a bounce to his step, the song 'Maneater' jauntily whistled for all the world—and especially one former cricket—to hear.

~/~/~

AN: August is _hard _to write. XD He knows too much, and the inside jokes aren't as much fun to sneak in when you know what he knows. –laughs- As a note, anyone else notice that Geppetto carved for himself a son that looks like Jiminy when he was young? Red hair, blue eyes? Sure, August darkened up, but I'm just saying…

Character In-Joke: "Alexis Ethel Merman." Her plumber father likes Broadway musicals.

Murphy's Law: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

Tom and Huck is a reference to Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, created by Mark Twain.

Wart is really Art, as in King Arthur from T.H. White's telling of the tale in, "The Once and Future King." Merlin/Merlyn really does live backward and, as a note, King Arthur is referred to as returning from death in a later day when he's needed.

"_There would be a day—there must be a day—when he would come back to Gramarye with a new Round Table which had no corners, just as the world had none—a table without boundaries between the nations who would sit to feast there. If people could be persuaded to read and write, not just to eat and make love, there was still a chance that they might come to reason._

_But it was too late for another effort then. For that time it was his destiny to die, or, as some say, to be carried off to Avilion, where he could wait for better days."_-T.H. White, _The Once and Future King_

From "Sense and Sensibility" (it seemed fitting):

"Do you compare your conduct with his?" –Elinor "No. I compare it with what it ought to have been; I compare it with yours." –Marianne

"Maneater" is by Hall and Oats. Look it up, it's eighties-tastic.


	5. To See Clearly

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 5: To See Clearly

A newfound relationship with one's Grandmother did not, in fact, get one off the hook when it came to being late. Some false few thought that it did, condemnation on their tongues as they muttered under their breaths while drinking coffee or eating their meal. But the waitresses at the Diner and two maids of Granny's Bed and Breakfast, mousy girls with cheerful demeanors, knew better, bearing witness to each fallout as well as each punishment.

She could honestly say that she deserved them all. While her Granny had always been critical of her style of dress (acrimony which had lessened recently, as an added bonus to her "Court the Gentleman" plan), and her discourteous manner, Mrs. Lucas had never punished her for those things. It was a testament to the fact that they had a very similar spirit, and could recognize it in each other. It was only in those moments when she broke the rules, the same ones every hired employee had to deal with, that Ruby was outright punished.

Being late, for one. Having her till off, for another. The former was paid back via tasks, the latter out of her own pocket. Ruby knew that if she had been a regular worker engaged by Granny Lucas then her mistakes would have actually put her job on the line. As it stood, her grandmother couldn't fire her only heir. But she could make her tasks as painstakingly miserable as possible.

Take now for instance. Currently Ruby's hair was pulled back in a messy bun, held up through the magic of alligator clips and a determined army of bobby pins. Normally she would have let the hair stick out in dual pigtails while she was working, but given what she had been assigned she wasn't willing to risk it. A red bandana pulled the rest of the wispy mass back and she'd somehow been shoved into a pastel blue gingham uniform. Egg yolk yellow gloves topped the entire ensemble.

If she resembled any kind of 'retro lady' right now, she mused darkly, it was most definitely a 50's-style housewife, complete with fixed smile and Mr. Clean scent.

Or maybe Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. She could only hope that some disaster would sweep her away. But no, it was time to take it like a man…so to speak. Stiff upper lip and take responsibility for the consequences of one's actions.

Her ball and chain, a mop and bucket combo in matching yellow, lumbered along behind her as Ruby pounded on yet another door. Most of the rooms were empty due to the lack of traffic through their little town, but Granny was particular about keeping things spic and span now that their customers had picked up slightly.

"Housekeeping!" she shouted with all the cheery brilliance of a mass murderer. When there was no response she pulled out her handy dandy skeleton key, complete with swan inlay, ready and willing to foist the creaky old thing open. But before she could do more than fumble with the burnished metal it swung in…and out of her grip.

"Sorry, give me just one moment and I'll clear out."

She'd been caught looking down when opening the door, gifting her victim with a view of blue and red and nothing else, but her head popped up with his words. Ruby sucked in a gasp, stumbling slightly in heels that were shorter than she was used to. Instinctively the man caught her elbow in a strong if gentle grip, propping her back up until she was stabilized.

"Whoah, you okay there, Miss?"

"…I-I'm okay, Archie," she finally muttered, wondering why _of all times_ they had to run into one another now? When she was looking more like a mouse than her usual predator self.

"Ruby?"

Her head popped up at his tone of surprise, green clashing directly with blue. And with a start she realized that there was nothing inhibiting the view. No glasses or frames to get in the way, only clear sapphire topped by pale skin and light ginger hair.

He had laugh lines around his eyes, she realized for the first time, and around his mouth. It was the kind of face that woke up early in the morning and cheerfully looked forward to the coming day. Then greeted the sun as though it was his best and only friend. As opposite from her as she could get, pale where she was dark, honest and responsible where she had always been lackadaisical and petulant.

She was a nighttime kind of gal and it was reflected in her very being. Which reminded her of a song she'd heard once, something about sun and moon and opposites.

"_Ruby?_" he was calling her name again, more softly this time, and she realized abruptly that she'd been looking at him for an extended length of time, examining his features for who knew how long. She flushed darkly and dropped her head, realizing that he must think that she was a freak. Then proceeded to blush even more as she become conscious of the pad of his thumb rubbing a circle against her skin. His hand must have slipped down from her elbow to her forearm without her noticing it, and he'd been brushing his digit along her arm this entire time.

It didn't have the heat of a branding iron, the way she might have expected it, so much as a slowly boiling pot of hot chocolate. Where the temperature rose every few seconds until the drink was thick and dark, an unseen hand stirring the mixture to keep it from burning.

That's what his touch felt like.

"Ruby? Are you okay?" he outright asked this time and she finally nodded and broke away.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," Ruby coughed and remembered that she was still in her cleaning rags. Not one bit romantic. Making a mental note to 'accidentally' set them on fire the next chance she got, she cleared her throat and held up the tools of her trade, "I'm just on housekeeping duty today, is all. So…when you're ready I'll just…" she trailed off, motioning vaguely toward the room.

"Yes. Sure," Archie cleared his throat a bit and backed up to let her in. Which confused her somewhat, "come on in, I just have to…" the psychiatrist held up his opposite hand and sighed in frustration. With a start she realized that his fingers were currently entangled in a length of crimson necktie.

He wasn't wearing it. He was holding it. In fact, he also wasn't wearing his typical sweater vest. Only a sky blue button-up and slacks, his sleeves rolled to the elbows to reveal peaches and cream skin, lightly smattered with freckles and a faint dust of pale fur. The shirt was open at the neck, too, unearthing a sharp collarbone and the jut of an Adam's apple.

She found her heart hiccupping for a second before she forced it still through the self control of a master diplomat. Then tried to find a topic, any topic, to act as a distraction.

"Having some trouble there, Archie?" she'd meant it in a teasing way, but somehow it came out…wrong. At least as indicated by his grimace.

"Yes, actually. I, um. You're going to find this ridiculous," he breathed out a laugh, "I misplaced my glasses."

"What?" her head pulled back in surprise. But now that it had been pointed out to her he _was_ looking at her rather oddly.

The psychiatrist nodded his head in a self-conscious little bob, not quite making eye contact, "I kind of sleep-walked into bed and now…I can't remember where I put them. A-And I'm _far-sighted_, not near-sighted. So this morning has been," he threw his hand out to convey the entire room, "an overall mess."

The room did look quite thoroughly trashed. In fact, she was shocked at how much was messed up, from the toiletries at the miniature bathroom sink to a trail of clothing hanging over the open dresser drawers. He must have had a truly hard time getting ready that morning, she realized, having to hold an article of clothing up and guess what it was by color and fabric. Because he had no way of knowing what it was he was looking at. The same went for turning on lights, morning routines, and sifting through possessions.

Her gut dropped at the thought of cleaning everything that he'd inadvertently made a mess of.

"Plus I have an appointment in an hour…I think," he squinted at his watch, "and I can't seem to get this blasted thing tied around my neck. I can't even _remember how_ to fold a necktie right now…" his words trailed off into a frustrated sigh as he stood there, shoulders drooping. She could see that he was near the end of his tether.

It was enough to stir even the hardest of hearts, and unfortunately she opened her mouth based on that emotion alone.

"I can always help you out with that tie of yours."

The minute she said them she wanted to take them back, and unconsciously she began pawing the ground with her feet, knees shifting back and forth with uncertainty. He, however, grasped a hold of that offer with relief, handing her the snake-like being.

"That would be wonderful, Ruby!"

He dumped the long length of silk into her hands, their fingers brushing, and she looked down in order to hide the flicker of heat which came to her face. By the time she'd looked back up he had popped his collar and was looking straight forward at attention, reminding her of his dog, Pongo.

Ruby fought the sudden urge to giggle and set out to work looping the fabric around his neck. Interestingly enough she had quite a lot of experience tying ties. She remembered doing so for her father when she was very young; he'd always said that it was practice for when she had a husband of her own. Then there was of course Granny's original uniform design, which used to include a tacky little red tie. Since then she'd mostly been employed in removing ties rather than tying them, which unfortunately made her a little rusty.

"So, how's your dog, Pongo, doing?" she asked for lack of anything to say, as close in proximity as they were, "what with the whole flooding fiasco?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, Pongo," he shrugged lightly, and she could feel the tops of his shoulders shift beneath her hands, "I was originally going to have him stay with the Vet. But when I got there David Nolan offered to take him for a few days. They've got that big backyard and with Kathryn still in the hospital and, well, everything that's happened lately, I felt like it would do him some good. He needs the company."

She couldn't help her little smirk at Archie as she tried to press down a stubborn crease, "that's our good little Dudley Do-Right. Looking out for the little guy even when he's had his own stroke of bad luck."

Archie flushed easily, an embarrassed smile lighting his face. He looked so much like a little boy that she could have kissed him.

Easily.

"I was just being a friend is all. And it worked out for both of us, so I don't think David minded."

"No, probably not," she murmured, "you've been a very good friend to him."

"Thank you, Ruby," his words grew softer, "I really appreciate you saying that."

They fell silent at that, Ruby trying to finish her job without being further distracted by the clean scent about him and the soft fabric he wore—the same color as his eyes. Archie just tried not to fidget, lulled by the rhythm of her unseen hands. At one point he even closed his eyes, as though resting them—from his latest worries or her presence she didn't know—and began rocking slightly.

Ruby distinctly noted the moment in which her fingers nicked the skin at his neck and brushed the tips of his hair. Archie stiffened, as though uncomfortable, but she could hear his breathing quicken against her face. Her eyes flickered away, trying not to make eye contact.

_It's just a tie, it's just a tie_, she thought to herself in a protective mantra, _you're only working with fabric. Not the person._

By the time she'd carefully knotted the blasted thing both of them were probably bright red. But she didn't have the heart to check and see, thereby revealing her own state in the process.

"There. It's not perfect, but I think it'll pass for an absentminded Professor look," without thinking about it, she patted his chest in reassurance, bidding the project goodbye, then pulled her hand back as though burned, "um, anyway. Now that you're ready, you can head off if you want. I'll clean the room while you're gone, so you don't have to worry about the mess."

"Oh, I couldn't do that to you, Ruby," Archie shook his head, fiddling with the necktie until he had settled it comfortably over the middle of his torso. The same area she'd patted. Ruby swallowed and tried to meet his eyes, "I'm the one who cluttered the place, so I'll clean it up."

"Are you sure? I mean, I can always come by later. When you're…not in here," she resisted the urge to smack herself. What kind of a response was that? He would probably end up thinking that she didn't like being in his presence or something else equally as silly.

"It's not a big deal. And I won't even tell your grandmother," they exchanged a chuckle at that and she resisted the urge to hug the man.

"Actually," he paused, chewing on his bottom lip, "I could probably use your help one more time before you go."

"With what?" she asked curiously and carefully.

"You assisted me with the tie. So maybe you could help me find my glasses. Because I can't see," he explained slowly, self-mockery seeping through his wide-smile, "in order to find my glasses…so that I can see."

Her mouth made a little moue of understanding before she threw a short giggle in, "that is…rather ironic."

"I thought so, too. I mean, I would let it go and just head off to work, but I'm getting a headache already. And I know that I'm going to have to deal with paperwork and talking to people today, so being able to see is kind of important."

"Only a little bit," she winced at the mental image of him attempting to focus on a paper he was writing…while it was held at arm's length.

"So you'll help me?" he asked hopefully and pointedly, although his look was somewhat glassy.

"Sure. What the heck," smiling, Ruby yanked her supplies into the room but made sure to keep the door propped open. Knowing her luck Granny was likely to stumble across the two of them, innocent dealings or no. Besides, it was better safe than sorry. And Archie wasn't like other men, anyway. She'd rather avoid a potentially reprehensible situation altogether, especially if she lost his trust in the process.

Ripping her gloves off and throwing them on top of her already growing pile of cleaning aids, Ruby perched her hands on her hips and tried to ignore how ridiculous she felt. Anything for the sake of a friend, right? A rather _attractive_ friend.

"Alright. Where do you remember wearing them last?"

"I was reading up on some files for an appointment I have today while sitting in that armchair," walking way to search another area of the room, he pointed at a deep forest green edifice, wingback in design and as solid as her grandmother's glare. It had been planted next to the window, the small table wedged on its other side bearing an old bottle-green lamp.

The walls were a pale, grassy green, wallpaper looking like Japanese brushstrokes and the bedding a creamy champagne color. The furniture setup was also deliberate, so that a person could comfortably read either day or night with the best possible light source, with the bed only a few feet away for stumbling into once one started nodding off.

Hmm, that was a possibility. She'd better check that, too.

Granny had designed each room with a specific theme in mind, and this one was based on light and serenity…even if it didn't quite convey that feeling right now with Archie's belongings strewn around.

While Archie was busy shifting through the items in his small bathroom she got down on hands and knees to investigate the armchair. It, however, was swiftly ruled out as nothing came of it. Which meant there was only one other option. Turning from her half-crouch in order to rise, she was caught mid-stretch as her eyes landed on the bathroom mirror. In it she could see Archie's reflection, his hands still as he just watched her contemplatively, gaze following the curve of her spine and then on to the long length of her calves. She wondered what he could actually see without his glasses, then got her answer as he blushed and turned his head away.

Head tucked out of sight, Ruby's job dropped slightly.

Did Archie just…check her out? The idea itself was ludicrous, but she couldn't rule it out entirely. After all, gentleman or no he _was_ a guy and it was always possible that despite his altogether "friendly" feelings for her that he just might…

_No._ She wouldn't worry about that. Not here and not now. Especially not now. Maybe later, once she'd scrubbed off the smell of disinfectant and thrown on something more flattering. But not while she was dressed like the maid and he was as blind as a bat.

She cleared her throat and her mind then turned to the bed, straightening it absently as she searched through its folds. Only when the blankets were completely made did she find the pair of spectacles, hidden beneath a pillow.

"Ah ha! I believe I have what you're looking for," smiling to hide her tumultuous feelings, she walked over to her friend and impulsively put them on him instead of just handing them over. Then froze with her fingertips brushing his face, Archie having placed his hands automatically on top of hers.

He blinked a few times as he became accustomed to their presence, then smiled down at her, cheerful if slightly subdued, "thanks, Ruby."

"No problem…" they continued looking at one another as his smile dropped and hers followed. Unaccustomed to wearing flat shoes, she found herself much shorter than usual compared to the man. But it left her parallel with his chest, and able to see his throat as he swallowed. In their combined search he'd forgotten to pull on a sweater vest, making one less barrier to physically put between them.

Archie's eyes seemed to focus on her for the first time, and in them she saw something like puzzlement and fascination. Ruby felt his most direct gaze on her, as though she was some sort of riddle to solve that he just couldn't quite figure out. And when she blushed his eyes flickered, clear and blue and startled with wonder. Archie opened his mouth to questioningly speak, but she disengaged herself before he could even start.

"Look, I'll come back when you're done in here. It's not a problem," she whispered quietly before moving to get her mop and bucket. That retreat failted, however, as she tripped spectacularly with a shirt tangled about her ankle.

Archie caught her with surprisingly quick reflexes and Ruby found herself back where she started, hand pressed against him and the feel of his heart pumping blood even harder than usual beneath her palm. It called to something in her. Something dark and deep and hidden. Ruby swallowed, then backed away slowly, nearly kicking over her bucket, and fled.

Cursing herself all the while.

~/~/~

AN: Blue gingham. And she's rocking it like Dorothy Gale. XD

Raphael Sbarge has some pretty lovely laugh lines, sans glasses. I was looking up reference photos and came across more than a few of him from other roles. And all I can say is that he's a rather good looking man when not in tweed and twill. (Heck, he's a good looking man when he _IS_ in tweed and twill.) He smiles with his _whole_ face. :3

The song she's thinking of is, "Play Me," by Neil Diamond. An absolutely lovely golden oldy. Although the roles are switched in the song. (XD Oops?) But that song kind of gives you a feel for the mood I was in when writing this chapter.

"_For I've been lonely, in need of someone. As though I've done someone wrong somewhere. But I don't know where. I don't know where, come lately. You are the sun, I am the moon. You are the words, I am the tune. Play me."_

Does anyone else with glasses do what Archie did, by the way? Lose your glasses and then not have the sight to find them again…so that you can see? Because it happens to me all the time. Usually I just end up throwing the towel in and pull up an old pair to wear while I search for the new ones. And then I usually realize that I went to sleep with them on, and that they're tangled up in my blankets or something else similarly embarrassing. It figures. –sighs-

I had an interesting time writing this, because I'm so bad with romance. ^^; It's awkward for me in real life, so when it comes out on paper I always wonder and worry about any kind of accuracy or verbal flow of things. Let me know if I managed it alright? Reviews are welcome. –hugs-


	6. A Friend Indeed

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 6: A Friend Indeed

Archie was very, very confused. Which, for a psychiatrist, was a particularly bad thing.

After all, he'd always thought of himself as a compassionate if very logical individual. Specific actions led to specific consequences, so why was this set stumping him so much?

He stared out across his office glumly, seeing yet not seeing bookshelves and diplomas. They weren't worth much, he mused, when one can't even figure out their own selves. Much less their best friend.

Well, best _female_ friend. There was and had always been Marco. Someone to talk to about frustrations and irritants, to teach him the simple "manly things" he only half knew how to do. Like changing a tire and building the fence around his home. But his friendship with Ruby was something else entirely.

It was….well, it was a combination of something intellectual and something inspirational. Every time they talked it was as though he was becoming more and more privy to her thoughts and observations. Truly, it was the first time, outside of a session, that he'd been afforded these things and the first time a person's innermost thoughts had been shared with him not out of _necessity_ but out of friendship.

But there was a more complicated element to it. A closeness and raw intensity that felt like a live telephone wire strung between the two of them.

Their latest interaction was especially charged, leaving him puzzled and a little shaken. Not in the usual, "I almost got hit by a train," way, but something more like being caught in a thunderstorm. Every time he thought about it electricity coursed through him, like sticking his finger in a light socket. That, and he was having flashbacks to the other day for some reason. It just kept…coming back every time he turned around.

Things like the smell of Ruby's hair, and how her eyes softened when she smiled. Also, there was those moments in which he'd seen her entirely without makeup. Her face had seemed more classically beautiful then, with none of the angles and edges that were often pointedly present. Plus her lips had seemed thinner and longer; more likely to stretch from cheek to cheek in a smile, highlighting the delicate bones of her face.

The weird thing was that they'd practically known each other forever. He couldn't remember the moment of actually meeting her, although memories of Ruby as a teenager filled his head if he searched hard enough. It was just that…she was a real fixture in Granny's Diner, but they'd never had more than a passing acquaintance until recently. It seemed that quite a few things had changed with Emma's arrival. He had to wonder just how much.

A knock on his office door brought Archie out of his stupor. He made his way across the room, glancing at the clock as he did.

"Right on time, Henry," the friendly psychiatrist said in greeting. His afternoon appointment smiled right back.

"Hi Archie!"

"How are you today?"

The boy shrugged, "the usual."

"Fairytale characters, evil queens…?" Archie supplied in a combination of bemusement and resignation.

"And math homework," Henry said, throwing his backpack near his chosen seat. Today he'd picked Archie's one orange armchair, leaving the black leather couch for the doctor. His choice of furniture sometimes reflected his moods, and the man had t wonder what this one meant. Optimism? Secret business? Or plain old kid worries?

"Of course," the redhead gingerly took his place across from the boy, trying to set his worries aside for now, "so, what's on your mind today?"

"Actually," Henry began, an inquisitive if uncertain expression on his face, "I was wondering if I could ask you a question."

"Really?" Archie's eyebrows shot up, "okay, well, go ahead."

"I was talking to August."

_Uh, oh._ This couldn't go well.

"And I was wondering…" he paused a second, like he wasn't sure how to continue, then stormed ahead anyway, "do you like Ruby?"

Curiosity hit Doctor Hopper like a sledgehammer as Henry peered through his messy shag of hair. Archie coughed at this unexpectedly upfront approach, however, he couldn't fault Henry for it. Children were precocious and Henry was more forthright than most.

"Well," his therapist tried to approach the situation as he might any other question. Logically and thoughtfully, ignoring how his face had started to resemble a lava pit, "I'm not sure, Henry. We're both very good friends. But I am quite a bit older than she is."

Henry looked disappointed, but nodded, "okay. But…you're only at the _most_ ten years older than her here, so I thought…"

When the boy trailed off, Archie prompted, "yes?"

He jumped in his seat as the though zapped, answering quickly, "_!_"

The doctor blinked, "sorry, Henry. I didn't catch that."

Henry sighed heavily then shrugged, "I just thought that…after all that she's been through, she kind of deserves a second chance. And you do, too."

_'All that she's been through'_? Well, that certainly was curious. Steepling his fingers together, Archie asked carefully, "Henry, would you like to tell me who Ruby is in the fairytale world?"

He grimaced and looked slightly disgruntled before saying, "Red Riding Hood, of course. I thought it'd be obvious." Henry's tone was that of a kid talking to an adult; the kind of 'duh' verbal emphasis that made Archie want to duck his head. He cleared his throat instead.

"Ah. A girl visiting her grandmother. The fairytale about watching out for strangers in the woods. She didn't…" he suddenly found himself uneasy as he remembered some interpretations of the story. Although why he felt anxiety for a fictional character he didn't know. But the mental image of Ruby accosted by some wolf of a man set him on edge more than he was willing to admit, "…nothing bad happened to her on the way to Granny's house, did it? She didn't get hurt, or anything?"

Henry was looking at him as though he had sprouted a second head, "_no_. Of course not. What Red Riding Hood story did _you_ hear?"

"Ah, it's just," Archie stuttered, then finally pasted on a smile. Did he really want to explain that one to him? "Never mind, it doesn't matter. So, um, what exactly happened in her story?"

The young man's gaze was troubled, and he was holding his closed backpack now like it was Pandora's box. Full of secrets and dark things and curses.

_And hope_, he reminded himself, there's always hope.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

Henry's tenor was really starting to worry him, and he could feel the smile slip from his face.

"Is it really that bad?"

"Uh-hmm."

"…but do you think that it might help me understand Ruby better…if I knew?" and perhaps in the process he would understand Henry's view of her a little better. Although the boy didn't have to know that yet.

Henry hummed slightly, "um, maybe."

"Is the story any worse than a man turning innocent folk into puppets?" as he asked the question a shiver went down his spine in memory. He'd eventually received the full account of Jiminy Cricket's dealings and it had left him feeling raw and empathetic. For all that the man-cricket was supposed to be him, he couldn't help but feel like he'd drawn the better life, here in Storybrooke. Well, somewhat. Every experience had its ups and downs. He could only imagine what it was like being a Cricket, though, raising not one but two wayward youths to adulthood, meeting fairies and villains and all sorts of characters. Like dwarves and werewolves and Princes who slew dra-.

Werewolves.

His gaze sharpened as he looked at the child, and Henry could clearly see that a connection was made. Sadly, for once.

"She…Red Riding Hood was the wolf, _wasn't she?_"

A huff of breath escaped Henry as a sigh, "_yeah._"

He was grasping at straws here, but it seemed like in all the stories Henry had told him, each had a catch. And that every great power or ability was matched with an equally great sorrow of some kind to balance it out. The Queen had magic, but no love. The Hatter had the ability to travel, just not home to his family. Cinderella gained a new life in exchange for the sacrifice of another new life. And when she tried to have her cake and eat it, too, she 'lost' her husband in the process. Hansel and Gretel, Ava and Nicholas Zimmer in this world, had gotten off relatively scotch free compared to the rest. There'd been no servitude or death involved at least. Well, mostly.

"And…and something bad happened, didn't it?"

Henry nodded, "she didn't know she was a wolf, and they thought that _he_ was the wolf. So they waited at night and then…" he trailed off.

"Who's 'he'?"

"Her True—" the young man stuttered at the word, as though reevaluating what to say, "her boyfriend."

Archie was frowning furiously, he realized, as he imagined the pain of the individuals involved. Red and her horror at what she'd done; at whom she'd become. And sadness for the poor soul lost by way of what could only be termed as an accident. He found himself asking, quietly, "what was his name, Henry?"

"Peter," he responded, mumbling it out.

"_Peter_," the good doctor echoed the name reverently. Despite the fact that what Henry was telling him was essentially fiction, and these were no more than characters, he couldn't help but feel sympathy welling within him. Then a thought came, causing his head to lift in shock, "Peter. _Peter and the Wolf._ The Boy Who Cried Wolf."

Henry's face scrunched up in a lack of understanding, "what are you talking about?"

"There's another story, a-about a little boy who cried wolf—meaning, that he sent out an alarm that a wolf was coming, when one wasn't," Archie hurried to explain without knowing why. But the more the words came off of his lips, the more bereft he was left feeling, "and then when a real wolf came and he called out to the villagers they thought he was lying again and-."

"He died," the boy finished with horror, which slowly settled into something akin to adult understanding. Bad things _did_ happen to good people, he already knew.

Archie could attest to this knowledge, as well, as he remembered their somewhat recent fiasco with the mine. But the idea of Henry losing his innocence so early in life saddened and worried the psychiatrist. Perhaps it was best that the boy saw the world through his rose-colored fairytale view, if it allowed him to extend his childhood just a little bit longer. However, he _did_ wonder what Henry's book would be rated if it were to be turned into a television series or a movie. Best not to ask.

They grew up way too fast. Although how he knew that, truth matched with heavy sorrow weighing down upon him, he didn't know.

After all, he had no children of his own.

"But…the story eventually ends up okay for Red," Henry tried to state cheerfully as he returned to their original subject. Or as cheerfully as they could while discussing a medieval teenage werewolf eating her boyfriend, "she learns how to use her powers so no one accidentally gets hurt. And then she helps fight King George and the Evil Queen. She's at the round table when they're planning what to do to fight the curse."

Archie blinked. Well, that was new information. But something else caught his attention first, "wait, she was at the round table? Does that mean that Jiminy and Red met?"

The young orphan shrugged, "well, yeah. They both went to the war meetings for a long time. They were probably friends, but it doesn't say."

"May I…" his mouth had suddenly gone dry as cotton as he asked his first real request and he swallowed audibly, "…may I see the book, Henry?"

Henry's eyes had widened in surprise, then he outright beamed. Of all requests Archie could have made, this was the most unexpected and the most welcome. The child probably thought that he was that much closer to believing his stories, too, "sure!"

The book was brought out and placed in front of them before Henry relinquished his armchair in order to join Archie on the couch. Then the young man flipped through well-loved pages to find tales as familiar as his own name. And his apparent magical ancestry.

Which would in fact make him a prince, the psychiatrist mused.

"See, here's Red before, when she and Snow White were friends. Snow used the name Mary Margaret then, too," with a start Archie realized that he was right, leaning over the boy's shoulder to peer at the tiny text just above Henry's pointing finger, "and this is Peter."

Doctor Hopper traced the border of the image in sorrow-filled respect. Made up or not, the young man had been lost to an untimely death at the hand of someone who loved him. He wouldn't wish such a fate on anyone. It was a story that was sure to strike a cord, especially in an impressionable young boy. He could see how some of Henry's overflowing affection for Ruby might stem from the so-called knowledge he had and the sympathy it created, despite his adoptive mother's disapproval of Ruby as a 'bad influence.'

Examining the page, his eyes did and yet _didn't_ see what was written. Unfocussed and caught in thoughts, his gaze wandered before finally settling. Then with a start he found himself looking into a pair of luminescent green eyes. They had a yellowish cast, as though in transition, and were centered on him as though they could walk right off the paper. It was Ruby, he realized. No, _Red_. But the similarity was astonishing, despite the odd stained-glass illustrative style. The cheekbones were right and the arch of the eyebrows, even if the hair was far different from anything he was accustomed to. The jaw looked more square, the profile more natural and less vivid, but it was still familiar.

Honestly, if he hadn't seen her without makeup before he was sure he would have doubted the likeness. But there was just too much that was similar…

Sometimes he wondered if the author of the book wasn't a resident of Storybrooke itself; someone who based the characters off of people they knew before publishing their idea for all the world to see. But that was too simple—Occam's Razor aside, it was probably all just his imagination anyway. THAT explanation he could believe.

However, the tragic story of Little Red Riding Hood pressed an ache into his chest. And then there was that occurrence with Ruby a couple of days ago…

She'd been there to clean, he remembered. It was his desperation that had led her to help him with his tie, and then with finding his glasses. She'd seemed uncomfortable at the time by her tone of voice, since he hadn't been able to see her up close, but he'd written that off as being a side effect of her unpleasant task. And then there'd been a moment that had shocked him.

Archie remembered doing a double take when she'd been across the room. Like looking through foggy glass that suddenly cleared, Ruby had been far enough away from him to see. Her movement flickered in the corner of his eye, drawing his attention, and unlike everything else that morning the vision of her had been crystal clear. And then he'd been caught.

Her spine had been arched in a way that had sent a zing through his being. Paired with a thoroughly male possessiveness that surprised him, but that was nothing compared to the length of her legs. Ruby had legs that went on forever, no matter what she was wearing, rags or retro or punk.

But he'd turned away from those thoughts immediately, clamping down on the thrill of attraction that had tap-danced on his nervous system. He'd felt ashamed at even looking at his friend in a way other than platonically. Still, it had been nothing compared to mere moments later.

The psychiatrist could recall with perfect clarity the moment when his vision returned. First there was the heat of her fingertips on his face, pads of her skin brushing his cheeks. He'd instinctively put his hands over hers in order to remove his glasses from her grip, attempting to resettle them on his nose. But then his actions and heart and thoughts had stalled. He'd abruptly noticed their proximity—continuing proximity, now that he thought about it. He'd been half a foot from Ruby since the moment she had pounded on his door, and he hadn't even noticed it. But then, at that moment, he had, their breath mingling in catches.

All he had been able to look at was her. The rich chestnut and red of her hair against the pale moonlike glow of her skin. The way she still smelled like wildflowers and baked bread despite the pervasive scent of cleaning supplies.

Under his scrutiny, her face had filled with heat. And he'd realized with fascination that Ruby's blushes started at her neck and went upward, like a rose blossoming as it greeted the sunshine. That unexpectedly possessive side of him had wondered what he would have to do to make her blush like that again, a thought he tamped down on.

Her lips were also wider than he could every remember seeing on a woman, too, the lower one full in a natural pout. Most of the girls here in town had bee-stung lips or arching cupid's bows, but hers was long and full, the curve of the top of her upper lip barely visible unless you were very close.

Archie had been very, very close.

Soft was how she had looked. Soft and closer to him than she'd ever been before. The thing that had amazed him the most was that she hadn't drawn away or rejected his presence initially. In fact, it hadn't been until he was about to say something—he couldn't remember what—that she'd put a distance between them. Only to end up back in his arms as she stumbled.

Despite all the evidence that something, maybe just a _little something_, might be there, Archie couldn't help but question the memory. Because it still seemed so surreal… Had it really been attraction they'd been feeling that day? Her, the most talked about socialite in town and him, the village fuddy duddy? Was there something there between the two of them, or was he just channeling Henry and imagining things?

"Henry?" he asked suddenly, needing to know, "does Red ever fall in love again?"

His patient shook his head, "not that we know of. But everything with the Evil Queen's curse happens right after. So she doesn't really, you know, have time to meet new people. Other than the Dwarves, who can't fall in love," Henry paused, then amended his statement, "except Grumpy. And Geppetto is too old. And you're a-."

"Cricket," he nodded. By now he was very familiar with his supposed part of the story, "I know. Henry…just…just how old is Jiminy Cricket by then?"

"Probably about eighty or ninety," the brunette mused, flipping pages, "but he doesn't age, 'cause of magic. Which is why ten years here isn't that much."

"Not in comparison, no," Archie spoke softly, "and Arc—I mean, Jiminy never falls in love, either? Not at all?"

"Nope. Which is why if you fall in love here it'd be like the magic turned back on or something—true love's kiss would do the trick," Henry nodded like a wise old sage, and Archie wondered if he in fact was the Wart to Henry's Merlin, and not the other way around like he'd discussed with August, "I've been trying to figure out, and I think it's important. _And everyone else has somebody already._ But Mary Margaret and David kissing _doesn't do anything_," there was a particular note of frustration from him, "but with you two it'd be like a _new_ love!"

"So it's all a process of elimination, then. Red and Jiminy are single, and no one else is," Archie remarked, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. And the line Henry had spouted oh-so casually. _'Everyone else has somebody already.'_ "And you're sure that a 'true love's kiss'," he paused to include air quotes, "would have that same sort of effect in this world? Even though there's no magic here?"

"I'm not sure," the boy admitted, "I think that magic would have to be involved somehow, but I don't know how yet," he looked up abruptly, staring straight at his therapist, "and I _really_ _do _think that you two could be true loves."

"But what about Peter?"

Henry coughed and squirmed, trying to avoid the question as a flaw in his theory was pointed out, "Red can have _two_ true loves. I mean, Emma had my dad and he died but she likes August," he shrugged bony little shoulders.

"Wouldn't that have gotten rid of the lycanthropy, then, kissing him?"

"_The what?_"

"Werewolf…ism," Archie sometimes had a hard time remembering that he was working with a little boy. The child was so intelligent and his thought processes reminded the good doctor so much of himself that occasionally he forgot.

"She was born with it and it wasn't a curse," Henry said like this explained everything. And maybe it did. Several generations of a being a werewolf didn't just erase out of existence overnight.

"And what if we did k-kiss," his glasses nearly fogged up at the idea, and Archie firmly pushed the thought away. Tabling it…for now, "what would happen then? Would the curse be broken and Ruby would turn back into a werewolf and eat me, too?"

The question came out sharper than he had intended, causing Doctor Hopper to bite back the rest of what he'd been about to say. It didn't help that August's puzzling song was playing in the back of mind, either.

"Henry, do you think that maybe your belief that Ruby is Little Red Riding Hood comes from the fact that she's always dating, searching for the right one, but not finding him? Do you think that this might be the cause?" the conclusion tasted liked sawdust in his mouth, and Henry frowned up at him.

"No. Why would I think that?" okay, so maybe Archie had been projecting his own feelings a bit for a second there, "I know that she is _because she is_."

"AND," Henry added with pointed finality, "I _know_ that she likes you. I saw on Career Day. She was holding your hand."

"She wasn't…we weren't," the redhead spluttered, finger held up as he attempted to make a logical point, "Look, Henry, holding a girl's hand doesn't mean that she likes you or you like her. It could be for a variety of reasons. Like you're showing affection, or reassuring her. Or trying to give her encouragement," he flushed a brilliant red about three shades darker than his hair. Matching the streaks in hers, "and if she liked me, I think that I would know by now. There would be flirting involved a-and short clothing and instead all she's done is...is…"

Have long, deep conversations with him. Show interest in the events in his life and show affection toward him. Listen to what he has to say, even the silly musings, and discuss random books and music. And dress in a way that made him feel comfortable; where he didn't have to worry about where his eyes landed. She was dressing like an adult, someone to take seriously and someone whom he could find himself talking to without feeling like he was too old or too stodgy to understand what she might be interested in.

He'd overheard Doctor Whale say that Ruby hadn't been seen by the bar lately, too, and during his time at Granny's Bed and Breakfast he'd run into her at odd turns. Seeing her retire for the evening, but not before she made a point of saying goodnight or picking up a good book to read from whatever room he was in.

Plus she was actually listening to her Grandmother. He could have sworn he'd seen her wear something once that looked right out of the forties or fifties, and that couldn't have come from some salvation army grab bag.

Henry was watching him as slow comprehension came first in trickles and then in waves. In many ways it was like the tide, calm one minute and roaring the next. Until all he could see was the sea.

A _red_ sea.

Archie sat back against the coach, as dumbfounded as he could be.

"Well, I'll be darned. Henry, I think that Ruby likes me."

"She does," he affirmed, nodding, "but I think it matters more whether you like her or not."

"I…" he winced in thought, "I'm not sure. I'll have to look into it. I've never, well…I've never really had anyone…"

"Love you before?" Henry supplied and Archie looked sharply at the boy, remembering their cricket conversation.

"Or just even like me, Henry. I mean, in school I was always awkward and now…well, it's hard to date the town shrink. I couldn't even tell anyone what I hear if I tried."

"But you're a great guy," Henry's leg bounced in agitation, "so you deserve to be in love."

"Yes, but deserving it doesn't always mean that it happens in this world," Archie remarked quietly and mournfully, "love is complicated. You don't just get it because someone is a good person and they've earned it or anything. It has to be found and nurtured."

The boy wrinkled up his nose, "what does that mean?"

"It means," Archie stalled, thinking rapidly. He would have to be careful here, as this might very well be Henry's first and main introduction to romancing the fairer sex. Plus the psychiatrist was one of the few legitimate male father figures he had, "that love has to start with something. A foundation of…of friendship. Connection. Shared interests. And then they have to actually think that the other person is attractive to them. This could be for any number of reasons. But what's really important is that friendship. Because friendship sticks around, even when people grow old and they don't think that they're very good looking anymore."

"So love starts with friendship," Henry echoed, frowning. He could almost see the boy's visual memory make a note of the advice.

Archie bobbed a nod, "yes. People will share things that make them laugh, or common causes—like serving others. Or they will be interested in the same things and activities. And after a length of time they realize that…they'd be willing to spend the rest of their lives with this person. Because they've shared so much and agree on so much. It's very rare that 'love at first sight' happens, and usually those relationships are a bit rocky," he emphasized.

"Like Cinderella and Thomas?"

"Um, yes. Kind of like that. But what's really important is that we essentially marry our best friend."

"So you're going to marry Ruby, then?" Henry was grinning cheek to cheek, and Archie comprehended what he'd done: backed his self into a corner.

Doctor Hopper ruffled up the boy's hair, half in affection and half in his usual exasperation, "I think your session's about done. C'mon, let's go see which of your moms are waiting."

~/~/~

AN: The real fairytale of Red Riding Hood was, to be completely honest, about young girls avoiding rapists and murderers in the woods. Good ol' practical knowledge for the medieval girl.

The answer to Archie's question: Henry's book would be PG in a television format according to ABC and Canada's broadcast rating. Parental Guidance for fairytale violence. ^^: Sorry, Henry.

The book: does anyone else feel like the illustrations in the book are just pics put through a Photoshop filter?

Occam's Razor is a scientific theory in which the simplest explanation, the one that makes the least assumptions, is usually the correct one. They talk about it a lot in the movie, "Contact."

Mary Margaret and David's kiss: sure, she brought him back from a coma and he started remembering stuff, but in the long run their kisses were kind of worth squat, magic-wise. ^^; I guess it is true love's first kiss (or, erm, close to that) that really counts, which explains things like Graham's reactions and Belle's effect on Rumpelstiltskin. Sort of. –coughs-

Note: This is probably my longest chapter so far. Not my intention, at all. –frowns, then shrugs-


	7. Cuando

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 7: Cuando

Sooo…pulling the friend card wasn't working. Ruby scrubbed at an unidentifiable stain with determination, absently nothing each of her coworkers as they left. Of course, she wasn't about to go off with them; in the past she might have, if only to freshen up before heading off to the local dive, but things were different now.

Granny's heart murmur was acting up again, for one, and, well, she now that she knew that the place—both places!—were going to be hers in the future it put a different spin on her view of work, as a proprietary feeling had started settling in. After all, there was no time to start this responsibility gig like the present.

And staying behind gave her time to think.

Tossing a wave over her shoulder as the cook, Luis, said his goodbyes after sharpening the blades one last time. He had a strange obsession with them. That, and his hatred of crustaceans. Odd man.

One he was gone she rose to absentmindedly lock the door before switching on her own private boom box. During the daytime it was hooked up to the speaker system, a local radio channel pumping pop and soft rock through the restaurant. But at night it was all hers. She gave the mechanical object a gentle pat, admiring the red-on-red flames an ex-boyfriend had painted on for her sometime forever ago, then switched the music over to the CD option. Waiting until smooth jazz and upbeat big band numbers came into being, surrounding her in the open air.

Most nights she leaned toward classic or modern rock, with a solid beat, but as of late she'd started commandeering her grandmother's records in an effort to learn how to be more 'classy.'

Of course, there was a little bit more to it than that, but she'd never admit it to Granny. Especially when it involved some minor stalking.

It had been a few days after 'The Incident,' as she mentally termed it, admitting the phrase to no-one except her locked journal. At the time she'd only been trying to make amends…or something like that. She hadn't really planned it out beforehand. But she'd headed to his room in an effort to lessen the awkwardness that was present when they met at the breakfast table or in the hallways and hopefully bring them back to the accursed "friends" square in their little Game of Life. It was irksome, but at least it was familiar. But just as she'd raised her hand to knock a soft sound had wafted out through the cracks and keyholes of his door, melancholy but romantic. She'd been frozen, utterly unable to move, and hadn't had the heart to follow through with her action and thereby interrupt him.

But that sound, that music, had stuck with her for days. She'd finally broken down and headed a miniature investigation to find out the genre and artist name with Emma and Mary Margaret's help. And one online purchase later she was the proud owner of a piece of Archie's soul.

Sort of. In a romantic, non-creepy kind of way.

To be honest, the slow, thoughtful music and its careful turns of phrase helped her on the days when she felt the most alone. As though Archie's presence was near, even when he physically and emotionally wasn't.

She hated to admit it, but Granny had to be wrong for once. Ruby's efforts at being his friend hadn't really helped in the long run, and she had to accept the facts. Doctor Archibald Hopper would never see her as anything more than an impulsive kid with a talent for failed relationships.

Absently moving her feet to the music, the waitress attempted to recall a few distantly memorized dance steps from high school. The boys then had barely wanted to touch the girls, much less lead them correctly. Even Ruby, buxom since thirteen, had been a veritable No Man's Land when it came to anyone but the resident school perverts. Perverts who had grown up to join the already ever-visible town lechs.

She wondered absently what it would be like to be held and _led_, to continue the dancing metaphor, by a man that actually cared about her.

It didn't help that all the good ones were taken, either. And with no strangers coming to town, sans August and Emma, the dating pool was surprisingly small. But it hadn't been for lack of trying; she'd cycled through all the unattached men, from Jackson with his bean-planting obsession to his cousin, Pete, and his pickering for pumpkin sculpture. She'd alternately been set up on blind dates with Tomas, who worked at the Deli, Richard from Storybrooke's Country Bread bakery, and Harold with his bee enterprise. The future of his burgeoning candle-making industry hadn't quite been able to make up for his bad breath and groping hands.

A day later she'd overheard him explaining away his black eye as the side-effect of a bee sting.

_Right._

Sometimes she felt like her dating shuffle was just a mask to hide her worry: that the so-called 'Perfect Man' she was looking for didn't exist, either in this world or in the next. It was a void that crept up on her during lonely days and nights (and once a month, for three to five days). She somehow knew that the feeling wouldn't be leaving her anytime soon.

"_Cuando, cuando, cuando_," Ruby murmured quietly as she retrieved a broom, singing to herself in a way she would only do when alone. When no one could hear the actual plaintive question in her voice.

"I didn't know that you could sing."

Gasping, she whirled around in shock to find a small brown mop of hair pop out from under one of the many booths, taking a place on a seat so that his feet dangled. She merely gaped at him for the next several moments as recognition settled in, slowly returning her heartbeat to normal.

"Henry, what are you doing here? We closed a half an hour ago."

"I know," he said innocently, as only a child could, "but I wanted to ask you a question and then you seemed distracted," pausing, the boy was then looking at her with single-minded determination, as though she was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out, "what does that mean, anyway?"

"What does what mean?" her nerves were still a tad on edge as she bent to pick up the broom she'd dropped, settling it's long handle, as well as her derriere, against the nearest table edge.

"Quan-doe. What does it mean?"

"Cuando. It's Spanish," she paused, looking up at him and accurately guessing his age, "you haven't started learning foreign languages in school yet, have you?"

"Nope," he shrugged, looking altogether unconcerned, and Ruby resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Oh, to be that carefree once again.

"Then I have half a mind to throw a Spanish-English dictionary at you and let you figure it out for yourself," she retorted wryly, feeling a little bit more like herself. Meaning that she ended the threat with a smile, softening its blow. Ruby fortunately or unfortunately had a soft spot for the sneaky little adventurer, which he knew all too well. She'd been a constant in his life since he was a teetering toddler, and for some reason Henry had chosen to take a shine to her, even when the rest of the town shook their pointing fingers. She couldn't help but tease the kid, be silly and honest with him. Truthfully Ruby loved him like a much-younger brother. Even in situations where he decided that becoming a diner stowaway was a good idea.

He smiled, speaking in a confident and forthright manner, "but you won't, will you?"

"…no, I won't," she gave him a wry smile, shoes tapping shortly as she moved close enough to ruffle his hair, "scamp."

The kid beamed, but was not deterred, "so? What does it mean?"

"It means 'when.'"

"When what?"

"When…" she trailed off slightly, trying to pinpoint the best way to describe the lyrics' premise, "when will they be allowed to be with the one they love," she coughed and picked her broom back up, getting back to work. After all, restaurants didn't clean themselves, "because she's playing hard to get. Or he is. Or something."

"What does 'playing hard to get' mean?" his face was scrunched up in the manner of the truly confused. It was as though the concept had never once before come to him, which Ruby puzzled over. She thought that he should have at least some inkling, being the Mayor's son. That woman played hard to get, figuratively, literally and legally, in more ways than one. Talk about being as slippery as an eel.

"It means…" Ruby bit her lip, wondering if the word 'hypocrite' was set to appear on her forehead any time soon, "treating someone else's affection lightly. Pulling them in and then pushing them away without any regard for the deepness of their feelings."

"Deepness? Don't you mean 'depth?'"

"Whatever," she waved a hand at the grammar nazi, "anyway, it's about…having to wait for love."

"But why would they do that?" the little boy asked curiously, "wouldn't you _want_ to be with the one you love?"

Yes, w_ouldn't they?_ Ruby moved so that the boy couldn't see her smile twist into a grimace, "love isn't that simple. _Falling_ in love is easy, but staying in love is hard. And life doesn't cut you any slack. It's…complicated."

His open expression, cheerful gaze peeking out from under a mop of shaggy brown hair, clearly asked her how. But how was she to answer that? The waitress didn't even have kids of her own, so how was she supposed to explain to _someone else's kid _the difficulties brought about by reality? Life wasn't a fairytale and the idea that some white knight was going to save you was the falsest of the media's lies. Real life was filled with regrets, missed opportunities, and, well, complications.

Plus, this was the _Mayor's son_. The Dragon-Lady already thought that Ruby was a bad influence so she couldn't just spout off something flippant—it may actually get back to the domineering witch.

"There are situations that make being in love difficult. Like when two people love one another, but one of them is already dating someone else. Or if they are friends first and don't want to destroy the friendship," her voice cracked on the last word, and she coughed to disguise its uncertainty, "or it could be that their parents don't approve. Or maybe that one of them has been hurt before, and they're afraid that they'll get hurt again."

When she turned back he was nodding, "Archie says that love is complicated, too."

Her breath hitched slightly, which she deliberately turned into a cough, "right." Only to see Henry smirking out of the corner of her eye, as though he'd made the statement deliberately, just to get a reaction from her. And knowing the little rascal he probably had. Suspicious started to weigh heavily in her mind as she slowly turned back.

Ruby just looked at him for a moment, brows lifted and face expressionless. But this slowly shifted into something admiring, her arm propped up on her broom as the other was cocked on her hip. Rather than approach the surprising topic change, she decided to focus on another truth, "you are one sly little kid, aren't you Henry?"

He beamed up at her, "is that a bad thing?"

"Oh, no," she answered smartly, "in fact you kind of remind me of me when I was your age."

"How's that?" he asked, genuinely curious. Although there seemed to be a double layer to his interest that she wasn't going to examine too thoroughly.

"You're full of mischief," Ruby tweaked his nose then fetched the boxed meal she'd set aside earlier for herself. She plopped it down in front of him, revealing a piece of strawberry pie, before retrieving one of their just-washed forks, "here you go."

"What's this?" he asked, forehead wrinkling in his confusion.

"Well it was going to be my midnight snack. But," she paused, waiting for a cue. The answering growl of his stomach made her fist-bump the air, "now it's yours. How long were you hiding, anyway?"

"…do I have to answer that?"

"Nope."

"Then suffice to say I missed dinner," he answered regally, waving around his newly bestowed utensil. Ruby resisted the urge to laugh at him.

"Then it's on the house. Anything for a worthy cause. Especially if it involves a young man being willing to sacrifice dinner for the sake of asking a simple question," she pointed with her finger straight at his face, "your mother's going to kill me, by the way."

"Which one?"

"Does it matter? They're both lethal," Ruby shrugged.

"Yeah," they both smiled ironically, although perhaps for different reasons. Still, she could tell that the boy was up to something, "I feel bad, though. It's your food, not mine," there was a deliberate pause that was too emphasized to be accidental, and then slippery words fell from the boy's lips, "we could always make a deal for it?"

Something ominous prickled under her skin, and Ruby mentally commanded her goose bumps to _stand down_, for heaven's sake. She peered down at him, mouth pursed, and wondered how it was that someone so young was so experienced in trickery. Even if it was with good intent, it didn't make it any less of a bad habit. Ends justifying means and all that jazz.

"…how about we just say that you owe me one."

"Like people do for Mr. Gold?" Ah. So _that's_ whom he'd been spending too much time with lately.

"_No._ Like a _friend_. Friends don't make _deals_," she stated firmly, giving him an unspoken lesson in adulthood, "anyone who does and says that they are your friend _is lying_. Real friends do things for one another because they care about each other, with no strings attached. Now you'd better ask your question and then head on home—it's almost ten o'clock."

Looking properly cowed, Henry nodded and sighed, "okay, okay."

"Any time you're ready," she hummed absently with the music as she continued at her tasks. Cleaning, putting away the last of the drying dishes, and wiping down counters. It was only as she started shutting off the remaining lights, a ploy to draw him out, that Henry's resolve finally broke, his pie only half-eaten. And still the songs played on and on in an endless loop, bringing back the comforting feeling of Archie's presence even if he was nowhere to be found.

"I just wanted to know…do you like Archie?" Somehow Ruby had known that that was coming. He'd always been too perceptive for his own good. Ruby pursed her lips.

"Yes," she didn't even pause to answer the question. And the single, simple word rang as true as blessed silver.

"Ha! I was right," the boy crowed as only a younger brother figure could, "and _he said_ that holding hands didn't mean anything."

Suddenly the statuesque brunette was right in front of the boy, solemn, intense and unsmiling, "_he?_"

"Gotcha," Henry grinned triumphantly. She said something distinctly unladylike and his grin widened. But she still wasn't ready to give in…yet.

It took a two and a half minute-long stare-down between the duo before she finally plopped into the adjacent seat, folding long limbs underneath the booth's table, "alright, I fold. _Like usual_. Spill."

"Archie was asking about you during my session," the youth responded excitedly.

"And?" she'd folded her hands beneath her chin, but moved them away to her lap upon asking the question.

"Soooo…Archie was _asking_ about you," he said the words again, as though that in itself should be enough of an explanation. But there were so many ways that she could take a statement like that. Archie was asking about her…_and the likelihood of her inheriting the diner and B&B_. Archie was asking about her…_and the fact that she kept stealing the extra blanket from his guest room._ Archie was asking about her…_and was wondering if she could please keep her music down, thank you very much_.

Plus, intelligent though he was, Henry was still a kid. And kids didn't always have what she called, a 'Relationship Spidey Sense.' Archie could have been asking about her randomly, and Henry might have just taken it wrong. At least, that's what the Realist side of herself was telling her Optimist side, to get the darn thing to shut up.

"Henry, that could mean anything," she held her hands out, palms up as she ticked off points on her long, blood-red nails, "he could be asking about my health, my weight, my sleeping habits, how many driving infractions I have, the state of my teeth-."

"He was asking about you and the chance that you love someone," he stated emphatically, interrupting her. Then grimaced in a tiny bit of uncertainly, "well, sort of."

"Sort of? How can he be asking about me 'sort of'," she air-quoted the words, "romantically?"

"Weeeeell, he was asking about Red."

Her head pulled back in confusion as she frowned, "…_Red?_ Who's Red?"

"Red's you."

"Red's _me?_"

Her skepticism, however, was not what he wanted to hear, "look, it's complicated."

_Like love?_ She wanted to ask, but bit her tongue.

"And I want to tell you, but it all depends."

"Depends on what, Henry?"

Henry Mills hesitated, eyes flickering to the closed sign on the front door, "that depends. Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure, Henry," wiping her hands on her apron, the young woman crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the shoulder of a nearby booth. He didn't appear completely satisfied, but went ahead anyway.

"Okay. What do you know about Operation Cobra?"

Ruby shrugged, "not much. Only the little bit I've overheard you talking about. Emma hasn't told me anything, if that's what you're wondering."

He was still watching her with wary eyes, a far more serious look on his face than she would expect on someone so young, "and my book?"

"Nothing. I've seen you carry it around, though."

"Okay, then," the boy seemed to come to a decision as he finally nodded, pulling an object from his backpack, "I'll tell you. But you have to promise not to tell anyone. And to take it seriously."

Whatever was he talking about? "Alright, Henry. I'll do my best."

"Okay, then. This is my storybook," he slid the heavy tome open and upon the front she caught a flash of gilded lettering before he was skimming past the title page to search somewhere in the middle, "it's got lots of fairytales in it, but all the people are really from Storybrooke. They're trapped here because of a curse. And this," Henry pointed to a cream-colored page of his hard-bound novel, which he had slowly turned for her to see, "is you. You're Little Red Riding Hood."

"What?" confusion echoed in her voice, but even more so in her mind as she peered down at the image and could only see herself. Albeit a self that looked a lot younger and more innocent than she was, wearing a long red cloak, gloves and boots. Her blouse was as white as her hair was dark and she could have been Ruby's sister in a heartbeat.

_Too responsible to be me. And too serious_, her mind answered in a wall of emotional self-defense. Which she didn't even question, despite the painful spark that came with the thought. The girl looked far too pulled together to be anyone like Ruby, but she had to admit that the likeness was striking. And the outfit was wicked. It was no wonder that Henry thought that she was Red Riding Hood.

Having a protective grandmother didn't help the situation, either.

Henry's face was dropping as he watched her examine the image without any show of a reaction, "You don't believe yet, do you?" Then he seemed to gird his loins, so to speak, "Archie still doesn't either, but he tries to understand. And it was a long time before Graham remembered. And then she killed him," the kid dropped abruptly, "I hope that wasn't my fault…"

_Yet_, he'd said. _Yet_. As though it was an inevitable conclusion. And what was that about Archie and Graham? Hadn't he died of a sudden heart attack?

"Of course it wasn't, Henry," she responded automatically, and the more she spoke the truer her words became, "you can't blame yourself for something that was out of your control," a pang entered her heart at the thought and staring at the ground she couldn't help but continue. Feeling like she'd heard the words before, "it wasn't your fault."

He seemed to be pretty perceptive for a kid his age and let the topic slide, sensing the turmoil Ruby was going through even if she couldn't. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Ruby waited for the piercing pain to dissipate. Meanwhile, deliberately clearing his throat, Henry went on, "anyway, Archie was asking which fairytale character you were. He seemed pretty surprised, and felt bad for your story since it didn't…doesn't…never mind. He's Jiminy Cricket, by the way."

She blinked at that new information, distracted for the moment. Which this proved to be a blessing, she found, as the migraine started to lessen with this new introduction of a topic, "Jiminy Cricket. As in the little…"

"Bug, yeah," he grinned a bit, "but he didn't start out that way. He kind of chose it, to make up for some mistakes that he made. Because it took him a little while to learn how to stand up for himself and do what was right."

"That happens to all of us, I think," Ruby murmured, trying to reconcile the two images. Archie Hopper, a tiny insect. Her lips twitched in amusement. He was nothing small in her mind, in presence or personality, so the fit seemed a little off until she imagined the bug in a stylish little sweater-vest and carrying an umbrella. _That_ she could see. And maybe even a top hat.

"Did he by chance…ask anything else about me?" she couldn't help but ask. She had time to think about her so-called past another day. Especially when she had such a verbal spy on hand.

"He just asked if Jiminy ever gets to fall in love. And if Red ever falls in love again," Henry shrugged.

Again? What was that all about? "which doesn't translate into him liking me, then." Drats. So much for that hope. She resisted the urge to sigh and settled her Optimistic side down for a nice long nap.

"Yes it does," the boy was adamant, "I tell him stories about the people here but he never believes me. This time he _asked_ to read the book. He _asked_ about you! He wanted to know who you were there versus here, and then was worried about your safety."

_No, Archie asked about Red and her safety_, she mentally clarified. They did not equate to the same thing, "Archibald Hopper only sees me as a friend, Henry."

It was as though she'd handed him a goldmine, his smile was so big, "well Archie told me that people are supposed to marry their best friend."

She swatted him lightly on the back of his head and rose from the padded bench, attempting to finally finish up her tasks, "then it looks like I'm marrying you, kiddo."

He wrinkled his nose up at her, "you can't marry me! I'm a kid, and you're old."

"_Thanks._"

"Besides, you _have to_ fall in love with Archie," he continued, as though uninterrupted.

_Geeze, louise._ It was apparently 'Tromp on Ruby's Feelings Night' and she was in for a never-ending show. She folded her arms over her chest as she paused, a dishcloth now in hand. Her broom had been forgotten, forlorn as it still rested against a near table, "and why's that?"

"So that you can both remember! True love's kiss breaks the curse, and you don't have a true love anymore so-," he stopped himself with an abruptness that was almost razor-sharp. Ruby, however, could only stare down at the little boy in icy stillness.

"My true love…_dies?_" a pang of heavy sorrow caused her voice to crack and tears to start forming. She couldn't figure out where they had even come from, but it all just…weighed down on her. Clenching around her ribs like a vice and nearly bringing her to her knees. It was almost hard to breathe for a second, a headache starting to pound behind her ears, but she finally pushed it back. Hoping that Henry hadn't seen her momentary breakdown.

"He's Peter from Peter and the Wolf," Henry answered quickly, "the _wolf_ killed him."

There was obviously more to the story than the boy was telling, but that could wait for another day, "mmm hmm." She made a neutral, noncommittal sound as she tried to regain her bearings, staring out in space at the pattern found in the tiles, the wallpaper. Anything.

"And you think that Archie and I, what? _Need_ to be together, for the sake of remembering that we were once fairytale characters?"

The summary was harsh and caustic, and she could see the boy flinch at her casual flinging back of his beliefs. Instantly she felt contrite, but…well, there were no excuses. She was hurting, yes. But that didn't mean that Henry, a boy of ten, had to be her scapegoat.

"What I mean is…" she began again, more delicately this time, "we shouldn't assume that Archie is in love with me. Or that he even could be in love with me. We're _friends_, and I wouldn't want to do anything to disturb that, Henry."

"But you _deserve_ it," the boy was fervent in his statement, eyes imploring.

"No I don't," Ruby answered quietly, "not really. I mean, I haven't even _done anything_ worthwhile here to merit something like that."

"But…" he clearly wanted to say more but didn't, looking sad.

Ruby sighed and held out her hand, "look, how about you give me some time to think about things, okay? We can talk about me being Red Riding Hood another day. Heck, we can hash out the merits of our mutual friend Doctor Hopper as well. But right now…now hasn't been a good day for me. I hurt, and I'm sorry that it made me lash out. I didn't mean to hurt you because of it. So…let's not leave things on a sour note…I can teach you how to dance, instead? It'll impress all the other ten year old girls."

Henry sighed deeply, staring down at the table. And she could tell that he wanted to say no but, frowning solemnly, he nodded, "sure. You're right. We should just…talk about it later."

"Right," Ruby nodded and pulled him upright and out of the booth, "now let me teach you about the 'Cuando' song. About waiting for someone to love."

It wasn't really a waltz kind of tune, but they waltzed anyway, an adorably stiff little process. Henry seemed to think that it entailed wobbling stiffly back and forth, and she could tell that he felt weird with their height difference between them. But still it was a relaxing little venture, and at half past ten they were swinging dramatically back and forth and laughing again like old friends, her flowing red skirt swishing to the time and white cardigan glowing in the remaining light.

But such simple peace couldn't last long.

A series of rapid taps caught their attention, and the duo instantly drew apart. Realizing, perhaps for the first time in the past while, just how late it was. Henry shrugged and retrieved his backpack, placing the book inside as Ruby bit her lip, suddenly shy. Only when he was completely prepared, however, did Ruby hop over to the front door. She'd been assuming Emma or Regina or even August, and instead found herself facing a mauve knit sweater vest.

She could feel her heart stutter and then start again as the waitress only stared at Archie Hopper, eyebrows arched. He only vaguely seemed aware of her distress, his own worry as obvious as his dog on a dark night.

"Ruby, have you seen Henry?" Doctor Hopper asked, frowning slightly as his hand flexed on his umbrella, "He disappeared after our session and Mayor Mills is worried-."

Ruby couldn't really say anything, so with an eagerness that was unfeigned Henry came closer so that he was in view, waving.

"Hi Archie!" Henry welcomed the man warmly, if a bit too much so. And he was watched the frozen form of a certain waitress knowingly. Which had the effect of thawing her, but also cued a certain level of crimson-painted embarrassment, "sorry about worrying you. I wanted to ask Ruby about how to dance, for something in school."

The doctor pursed his lips like he wanted to admonish him for lying again, but Henry beat him to the punch. Beaming like the world's most innocent child, his grin a little too wide to be completely true.

"Do you want to learn, too?"

The man's thoughts stuttered to a halt, blue eyes wide, and Ruby realized with a start that Archie, the ever-calm and soothing, ever-impeccable gentleman was discomfited. He rocked back on one heel, as though placed into a situation of sudden discomfort, before regaining his balance. Then swallowed a harsh breath as his face turned red in the dim light of the open diner door. She was struck entirely dumb at the realization, and she could feel Henry's triumphant smile digging into her back.

"Ah, that's okay Henry. It's gotten p-pretty late, so I should probably j-just take you home," the psychiatrist fiddled with his glasses as he attempted to manage his stutter, and with a start Ruby realized that he was looking at anywhere but her. As though he couldn't quite handle the vision in front of him.

"But we'll do it again another day, right?" the boy pushed, determined. Archie, it looked like, was having a hard time not fleeing on the spot.

"P-perhaps. We'll see."

Which was essentially the sign of death, as far as granting wishes to kids went. But it was definitely something of a reaction. His next words stopped her in her tracks.

"I-I actually already k-know how to dance, so…I may be a little rusty but I-I'll be fine with-without lessons, I think…" he shrugged as though that was his way out of the awkward situation. But all it did was cause more speculation, her thoughts taking and entirely different turn. If Archie knew how to dance then it was possible he knew how to lead…

Henry nodded, not quite satisfied but willing to concede, "okay. Well, goodnight Ruby."

"Goodnight Henry," she said quietly, watching as the two men, elder and younger, left. But not before Archie looked back one last time to nod respectfully at her.

Hmm. Maybe her 'when' wasn't as far away as she'd thought. And perhaps all she'd needed was a little bit of perspective.

Cuando indeed.

~/~/~

AN: This chapter was written three different times. The first was too angsty, the second was too sharp and sarcastic, the third was just right. XD Although the ending feels a little rushed, since I had intended for them to actually dance. Oh, well. I'll just have to save that for another chapter, right? ;-)

Can you figure out all the fairytale characters? :3 I'll give you a hint, all of the ones mentioned are males. And Henry and Archie don't count. XD

This chapter was written with two (technically three) songs in mind, by the same artist. "Cuando, Cuando, Cuando," and, "Try a Little Tenderness," both by Michael Buble'. The third is "Life is Beautiful" by Vega 4. Every time I've had them say something along the lines of "life is complicated/love is complicated" this song comes to mind.

My friend is the one that originally made the comment that when you get down to it, boys are afraid to touch girls (while dancing).

Storybrooke's Country Bread bakery does exist, and is directly across the street from Granny's Diner. You can see it in the scene where Emma and August are talking about their upcoming date (and August finally introduces himself). For more information, visit the Once Upon a Time main Wiki page.

And I almost forgot: Thank you Cait, Aviziel, gl-12, D. Vine, and "Mom" for your wonderful reviews!


	8. Wingwoman

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 8: Wingwoman

The store was as shiny as a new penny. And from its neon, fifties, rockabilly décor to the perky uniformed attendants at hand, it was the epitome of female escapism found in merchandising.

'_Buy Me!_' The obnoxiously loud signs and campy sale tags seemed to say, while the bubblegum pink dressing rooms and checkered tiling _begged _for her to walk right in, meander, and never leave. It was a prissy girl's heaven and a tomboy's eternal torture.

So what in the world was Emma doing there?

Sympathizing, that's what she was doing. Sucked into the abyss of friendship and need. Even that wouldn't have swayed her had there not been an additional factor involved.

"Ava needs new clothes," Ruby had explained bluntly over the phone, and the sheriff had felt the ever-present itch that there was more to the statement than her new friend was letting on, "I thought that, with your help, we could find some stuff that'll fit her. And I wanted to ask you about something, too."

Translation: their father, Michael Tillman, had no idea how to dress a ten-year old girl. Sure, Nicholas was fine with simple slacks and T-shirts, running things ragged as his clothing was roughed up by boyish abuse. But Ava was a whole different ballgame. Classy but not delicate, she'd had to sacrifice much for the sake of safety and security. Her relationship with her father was new, too, and she wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize that growing connection, including the request of new clothing.

So Ruby was doing the responsible older female thing and stepping in to help.

But Michael was paranoid about either of his children leaving his sight. And while he trusted the resident waitress to represent his girl for Career Day, he'd also been present then. The only way he'd leave Ava in Ruby's presence was if there was adult supervision involved, never mind the fact that Ava could handle anything that came her way. But adult supervision meant someone female that he could actually trust. Which was currently a population of one: Emma.

Emma's own self-inflicted trap could be blamed on her past. She knew what it was like to be an orphan, a troubled teen and a town outcast. She was familiar with clothing that didn't fit, food that didn't fill and hard decisions made by those too young for them.

Which of course made her a sucker for Ruby in her time of need, particularly when another hard-knock kid was involved. She'd noted Ava's shrinking clothing and tangled hair, too, but hadn't had much time to think about it lately. Other, more pressing, things had been on her mind. But Ruby's reminder brought her up short.

So now they were shopping.

Unfortunately "Modern Fashions" was the only clothing store in town. The most torturous shop in the existence of small towns.

She felt more than a measure of sympathy for any male caught dead in the place, regardless of the pleasant baby blue _their_ dressing rooms had been painted on the other side of the room. Any manliness statistic could be cut in half just by entering the little hole in the wall.

Not to mention the daunting realization that whomever had set up the place had intermixed the clothing displays. Sure, T-Shirts were in the T-Shirt section, but there were racks for male shirts placed side-by-side their female counterpart. So if someone became confused and picked up an item from the wrong display, heaven help them in the dressing room.

And then there was the accessory section—bow-ties, fezzes, and hair ribbons? Mary-Jane shoes next to farmer's boots? She could only guess where they kept the delicate under-things.

"I can't believe you dragged me into this," Emma muttered in a terse whisper, tugging her jacket about her neck as though it could ward off the encroaching presence of her environment, "I _hate_ shopping."

She stood awkwardly by as Ruby retrieved a slim shopping basket, the handcart on wheels as cutesy and disgustingly pink as the rest of the interior decoration. Ava hardly noted their interaction, having skipped ahead as soon as they entered the place. She'd been enthusiastic about the idea from the get-go, although she'd been determinedly hiding it unto the actual moment arrived. Sensing somehow that should she show any emotion the treat might be snatched away from her, like so many breadcrumbs.

Now, however, she was in raptures. Which nearly made up for Emma's discomfort. _Nearly_.

"I didn't know who else to ask," Ruby said back, out of their young companion's line of hearing, "Ava needs new clothes. And her dad's a great guy, but he doesn't know squat about girls."

"I figured as much," the blonde muttered, shrugging her hands into her pockets.

"Her clothing is worn out, she's already starting to grow out of the things she has, and sooner or later she's going to go through puberty," Ruby continued as though Emma hadn't made any commentary, ticking items of interest off on her fingers as they circled racks and noted sale signs, "so it's better to start now. Plus, I don't really use my money for anything other than new clothes and I don't pay rent, so I'm the best person to help."

"Oh, to be young and irresponsible," Emma teased. Ruby just stuck out her tongue, belying the mature image she was trying to portray. Well, if the waitress wanted Emma's help, she couldn't help but muse, she would just have to handle the kicking and screaming that came along with it.

"Not _too_ irresponsible, I hope," the girl muttered finally, gripping the cart handle until her already pale hands turned bloodless, "which leads to my second motive for asking you to come."

"I had wondered about that."

"I need some advice. Romantically."

Emma turned and just _looked_ at her.

"Um. Can you run that by me again? I'm not sure if I heard your request right."

Ruby huffed out a breath, puffing her hair up with it. And for the first time that day the former bail-bondswoman realized that it was different than usual. Softer around her face, more curled and less straight or extreme. And her outfit. She could practically be a model in the window of this place in that outfit, as annoyingly adorable as it was.

The difference being that her attire, a sleeveless white sundress made up of red polka dots, plus a knitted cardigan and cute kitten heels, didn't make Emma want to gag. It actually reminded her of a bolder version of Mary Margaret's typical wear.

Jackie O meets Rockabilly fashion. Marilyn with the gloves on.

"There's a guy that I like—as in, really, really like. Not short term," Ruby was quick to point out, breaking Emma's startlement, "and he's…normal. So I don't know what to do. I asked Granny for advice initially, and that's been working out okay. But he's been acting weird lately so I thought I'd ask you for advice, romantically."

"Wait, wait, wait," she held up her hands in an effort to pause the moment, calling time out with hand signals and baseball analogies, "hold on a second. You asked _Granny_ for advice? When did this happen?"

"After the post-lemur blowup," Ruby said wryly. When that failed to elicit a response she shrugged, "never mind. Recently. The question is, can you help me?"

"You do realize that I don't exactly have the best track record relationship-wise. Right?"

That was actually a bit of an understatement.

The last time she gave anyone advice it had resulted in Ashley breaking and entering, assaulting her creditor, and stealing from said creditor. Sure, things had worked out in the end but the pathway to the end had been a rather long one.

Organized mayhem, that's how one foster mother had described it long ago. The ability to create as much destruction as possible in a somewhat organized fashion. It ranked up there with other prize-winning talents, such as the ability to fall in love with dead men and royally piss off local legal officials.

Ruby was nonchalant, "I know. But Mary Margaret is the only other person that I would feel comfortable talking to. And I didn't want to remind her of anything."

"I see your point," she frowned.

Up ahead Ava had paused in her search, her mad dash into the store cooling as she more calmly perused her surroundings. It was also the first time she noted that her attendants had fallen slowly back in order to converse. She sent the two ladies a concerned look, which they caught.

"Hey, Ava, don't forget to pick out a few pairs of jeans," Emma called to her, sending the girl on a new and unexpected search. But the suggestion was more than just an effort to divert her attention; it was also a lesson in practicality.

For the benefit of a good pair of jeans was that it could last you practically forever, providing that holes were patched immediately and rolled up cuffs were let down once you grew into them. She remembered one foster mother showing her how to drop hems on a few of her dresses when growing up, revealing a slightly more maternal side to the usually stoic, even stern individual.

Other clothing had been less easy to acquire. After all, one could only create mismatched shirts in Home Economics for so long before peers started noticing. And while Emma was pretty handy at alteration, she was determined that Ava would never be put into a position where she had to learn those skills out of _necessity_.

Instead they would look for articles that would last the test of time, and by then her father should be able to figure out what sort of things she needed.

"So," Emma asked shortly, "who's the lucky 'normal' guy?"

"Archie," she said it like it was the easiest thing in the world to share, but to Emma it felt like a dropped bomb.

She nearly got whiplash as she veered to stare at the too-innocent girl. But Ruby wasn't letting the sheriff's disbelief faze her—she continued blithely on, examining a pair of pastel, ruffled socks.

"Hm," Emma grunted out, letting the concept of the two of them…romantically…together process, "well. Color me surprised."

"You think I should back off?" the waitress asked carefully, not making eye contact. Up ahead Ava was picking at things admiringly only to put them back upon seeing their price tags. Once the young girl turned away Ruby discretely placed them in the cart as she awaited Emma's response.

"Nope," Emma threw out her hands to show her lack of weapons, "if that's the way the wind blows, then who am I to interfere? He's just…not the kind of guy I pictured for you."

She could practically hear the girl rolling her eyes, despite having turned away, "you expected that I would hook up with someone like, I don't know, August?"

To which Emma produced an automatic scowl, trying not to think too much on her reaction.

"We're not talking about that man," the sheriff responded, flatly, "he's crazy. Never lies, but I swear every time he gets near…my nose itches, he's so full of secrets."

"Then I guess my choice is the saner of the two?"

"Men are about as sane as women are unemotional," Emma responded, before nodding slowly, hands on her hips, "although in comparing the two men, now that I think about it…I can see the appeal. Besides, we're not talking about my nonexistent love life, here."

"Who said anything about your love life? All I did was mention August," Ruby followed-up, smoothly. Leaving her friend fuming slightly at her own.

Emma resisted the urge to grumble or do something else delightfully immature.

"Right. Anyway. So, are you two serious, then?"

The brunette sighed, "see, there's the problem. He doesn't really…know that I'm crushing on him. Kind of."

Emma halted the cart that she'd commandeered the first time Ruby began ruminating, if only to give her associate a long, measured look, "you haven't made the first move yet? I didn't peg you for the shy type, Ruby."

The girl blushed furiously, and only then did the sheriff know that she must be in deep. _Uh, oh_, Emma thought to herself, this is definitely more than just a crush.

"I know that usually I'm not, but there's something about him that's different. I want to respect that, so I've been going slow. And Granny approves, for that matter, so she's kind of been coaching me along on how to interact with a 'Gentleman.' To start by being a friend and dressing in a way that shows my respect towards him and myself. In order to become a lady."

Her casually applied 'air-quotes' made Emma's lips twitch. As did the realization of her clothing switch. For all that Ruby was apparently changing by way of choice, Emma was pretty grateful that she'd kept her spunky style at least. Red, black and white were her colors; if they were missing then she would really start to worry. In effect the tones, plus the polka-dots, showed that she was still herself, at least, and not trying to conform to what a man wanted rather than what she wanted.

And if she was, then at least it was for a man that would never treat her badly.

"I just have no idea where to go from there. He was acting kinda weird the other day, and Henry said something that sounded like Archie might be interested in me but I can't be sure. It's only that I'm so accustomed to jumping into the fray, feet-first, that I don't know how to take baby steps with these things."

The younger woman seemed genuinely frustrated with herself and her overall situation. So much that Emma couldn't help but sympathize. But how in the world was she supposed to give the girl actual, working advice? It wasn't like she had any sort of method when running pell-mell through her own line of deeply embroiled fiascos.

"Okay, I'll bite. Just, as a second warning, though, remember that I'm no cupid, and I don't have the best track record," Emma said as a premise, attempting to wind herself up with some friendly advice. Hopefully it would work, "so take anything I say with a grain of salt."

"I think I can manage that."

"Okay," she nodded, "you and Archie…the man is a saint, I swear. You don't have picked a better one," Ruby brightened at that, if only for a moment, "but for all that he's the town shrink, he's about as dense as a brick wall." The girl's expression dropped back into her previous frustration.

"So you need to be more obvious. I'm not saying that you should sink your claws into him," she hurried to add, "just…up the ante a little bit. Be a little more obvious that you care about him. Especially if Granny suggested friend-zoning him."

They shared a glance that expressed how they felt about that situation, entirely.

"It's great that he now knows that you two can get along and interact on a friendly level, but you need to get him to notice you as a female," she shrugged, "gentle flirting only, though."

Ruby still looked skeptical and worried, though, chewing on one manicured nail until some of the paint flecked off on the pristine black and white tile. Emma felt some satisfaction at this, "but what exactly constitutes 'gentle?' I've been attacking men since before I can remember, so it gets pretty automatic. I don't even realize that I'm hitting on a guy sometimes, because to me it just feels like I'm giving him all my attention."

The blonde was stumped, distantly wondering why she was being subjected to this kind of torture, "look, all I'm saying is…continue doing what you're doing," she angled her body sideways, leaning against the cart so that they again could converse face to face, "be a friend. Someone who deeply cares about his wellbeing and is interested in what he thinks and has to say. But you need to, I don't know, smile more. Touch his hand more often, or something. Intentionally bump into him. Remember his birthday."

"Remember his birthday?" Ruby blinked, trying to recall if Archie had even celebrated a birthday before, much less anyone else in their Podunk little town.

"Visit him at work. 'Accidentally' run into him when he's walking Pongo, that sort of stuff. Find an excuse to hold his hand."

Ruby nodded slowly, her determination gaining firmness with each duck of her chin, "I think I can handle that."

The rest of their little trip continued on without the fervency of their previous conversation, the two women catching up with their young protégée if only to talk fabrics and textures and styles. Only when they were at the register did they backtrack a bit as Ruby examined a tie made up of paisley greens and reds.

Asking absently if Emma thought that he might like it, she only received a look of profound disgust.

"You are _not_ allowed to go all weepy and romantically fixated on me. I get enough of that with Mary Margaret."

"_Fine, fine._"

~/~/~

AN: Modern Fashions is a real store from OUAT. You can see it in the background of some of the scenes. We just haven't seen inside it yet, allowing me the chance the play around with its interior design. ;-) Check OUAT's wiki for more details.

I was intending on having Archie do some accidental eavesdropping in this chapter, but it just didn't seem in character. Plus, he kind of did the same thing in last chapter—landing upon a situation and feeling profoundly awkward for it. Instead we get to have some wonderfully sweet interactions in the next one, which should counter all the Emma-isms in this installment.

Holy crap, she's a blunt, straightforward character to write. O_O Worse than August, I swear. I'm not sure if I'll revisit her personality anytime soon. Unless it's something finale-related, wherein she finally gets a clue and feels awkward herself as she makes connections regarding characters and their pasts. –nods-

Rockabilly is a music genre that inspired a clothing style. Broken down: Rock and Ron + Hillbilly. It's a kind of 50's rock plus twangy country, with more than a dash of swing and rhythm and blues thrown in. A bit difficult to describe, but look it up here and you'll see what I mean: en. wikipedia wiki/ Rockabilly Elvis was a contemporary of this style of music, as was Carl Perkins.

Here are two examples of the clothing styles:

www. Pinup girl clothing

And:

www. Stopstaring clothing sunshop/ rockabilly –clothing -12-1. html

Ruby's dress in this specifically looks like this one, only in white with small red polka dots:

www. Pinup girl clothing pc –ginger –at –pk. html


	9. A Little Bit of Chocolate

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 9: A Little Bit of Chocolate

Archie felt a sense of alternating relief and sorrow as he tugged his heavy suitcase down the stairs. On one hand, he was very happy to be returning home. Staying at a hotel or bed and breakfast was enjoyable to a point, but he was starting to feel like he'd overstayed his welcome. Granny had recently been giving him odd looks, as though frustrated with something he had done, and he was itching for freedom from four walls and a bed frame that enjoyed swallowing his glasses.

His pocketbook agreed that it was time to move on. Plus, returning home would give him a chance to really go over the damage the flood had caused and see what kind of repairs he had to look forward to.

He'd missed Pongo's constant companionship, too. And Archie knew that the loyal Dalmation felt the same way; tired and yet full of energy, ready to be set free to stretch one's legs in one's own domain.

Still, it was the end of an experience, which saddened him. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad one. Good being that he had been given the chance to get to know Ruby and her grandmother better and bad in that he now had to deal with property damage. But it had definitely been _different_ from the usual routine, a mixed blessing in the monotony of life. The situation was just another obstacle to hurdle.

Upon reaching the bottom landing Archie finally set down the weighty accessory and sighed. Considering that he alternated his suits it wasn't really all that heavy, but the handle had broken some time ago, he didn't remember when, which made things difficult. And his other hand was full of a suit jacket and his umbrella. Awkward, that's the word he'd describe it. Like his recent interactions with Ruby, ever since Henry had made his double-edged declaration and later hid at the Diner.

First that she liked him as more than a friend, and second that she was Little Red Riding Hood…and apparently also a werewolf.

He knew the latter to be false, but he had no way of being certain if the former was true. Ruby had only ever been kind and friendly to him; never treating him like she was one of her reprehensible beaus. It was partially what made him like her so much, the fact that she didn't treat him like all the rest. But a part of him had to wonder if it was the truth or just Henry's overactive imagination that she felt any measure of entendre, as their interactions seemed to be sans flirtation. Mostly.

If only he could be shown some sort of sign; a clear statement telling him where she stood on the matter, without him embarrassing them both.

Doctor Hopper sighed as he entered the foyer.

"Granny, I'd like to check out…"his words trailed off as he glanced up to find that Mrs. Lucas had been replaced by her rebellious granddaughter, a paperback novel in hand. Her hair was up today in a teased, flyaway bun, although it was a significantly smaller mass than normal, revealing a swan-like neck. And her long earrings were made up of glass leaves, translucent as wings and hanging from a single golden strand of woven wire, ending in a subdued stud at lower half of her earlobe. Her attire presented the professional façade of a young businesswoman, long limbs encased in a wide-legged burgundy pantsuit and a fitted sports jacket, complete with a ruby and emerald lapel pin the shape of a leaved poppy.

Archie thought that the red and green looked well together. And that she was an elegant young woman who was finally growing into who she was meant to be.

The thought made him smile, and he puttered forward in response as Ruby blinked long lashes in surprise and set the book that she'd been reading down. Only when she was looking at him fully did the welcoming expression light her face, changing her entire pose from one of distracted contentment to unadulterated joy.

Ruby Lucas was _happy_ to see him. He felt something tug somewhere within his chest cavity and nearly faltered on his way to the sign-in desk, but instinct led him there anyway. Whereupon Ruby decided to lean forward on her folded arms, green orbs smiling up at him over a perfectly straight, wonderfully pert nose.

"Hi Archie!"

He cleared his throat from the cobwebs that seemed to be barring it, and attempted a return back to his instinctual smile, "Hello Ruby. How's the book?"

She shrugged, a wry smile tugging her lips to one side, "about B-movie-worthy. What can I do for you?"

"Well," he started, trailing into the words, "I felt like it was about time that I signed out and returned home. To assess the damage and get things back to normal."

Dismay was her first response and disappointment her second. Her pose abruptly straightened as she looked down at the desk, fiddling with the entry book more than searching through it for the date of his original sign-in.

"Is it that time already?"

"I'm afraid so," he answered, feeling a little remorseful himself. While the whole scenario had been a trial, he would definitely miss those mornings of talking over breakfast and run-ins within the B&B guest library. It would be lonely at breakfast without her.

After her first surprise appearance they'd taken to making it more of a routine, which August joined or abstained from depending on his mood. But he liked the instances in which they were on their own best—Ruby was more open when the stranger wasn't around, Archie liked to think. Which made him appreciate her all the more.

It was this sentiment that made him reach out to pat her hand consolingly, before resting his palm on the top without a thought for the action, "but we'll still see each other around town, and at the Diner."

"That's different, though," she said softly, then tempered it with a quick if forced smile, "then I'll just be serving you. Waitress and patron."

"That kind of relationship has never stopped us from chatting before."

She bit her lip as though wanting to say something, but quietly decided against it as she looked away, nodding. Causing Archie to marvel at the change.

Could this really be the girl that had attempted to skip town on numerous occasions, insulted her grandmother to her face, and flirted madly with the general male population? This intelligent, careful doe of a creature, intelligent and light on her feet should a decision be made or a task taken on?

_Of course_, his subconscious scolded sharply, _she's always been like that_. And Archibald Hopper had to agree with the subtle little chirp. She'd just been hiding underneath all the makeup and clothes. Her wall of defense against a world that was cruel toward anyone that wanted to be different or fight against their environment.

"That's true, we'll always be friends," she said the sentence honestly, and he was surprised out of his introspection by the hint of melancholy in it.

The psychiatrist reached out instinctively to lift her chin so that she no longer looked down, desiring an answer from her expression, "Ruby, what's wrong?" Without thinking about it he began rubbing his thumb over the sharp slope of her chin the same way he might rub his thumb and forefinger together. The motion was as gentle as a bow's caress across a stringed instrument, and this seemed to soothe some of her anxiety away.

It was in contrast to the heat he'd felt the moment upon touching her. He'd been shocked at his own actions, but he couldn't exactly take away the affection now…

"It's just that," her shoulder sloped in an elegant shrug, and he couldn't help but mentally compare the movement to that of a swan, "I never really got the chance to grow up with parents or siblings or anything. And I didn't really have any friends when I was young, except Mary Margaret. So…it was nice getting to know you. And getting to talk with you; to actually get to know you as the best of friends. But we won't get to do that anymore, since I'm kind of tied to this place."

The redhead's gentle smile stretched to form a sea of joyful creases around his mouth, and he could feel his chest swell with admiration and tenderness, "I cherish the chance too, Ruby. But me leaving doesn't mean the end of the world. I can still visit, and maybe we can do something outside of work some time."

Her eyes lit so quickly he almost took a step back, "really? Do you mean that?"

"S-sure, " he stumbled for a second, "and we could always sit together during your breaks, as well."

"Oh. Okay," the eagerness seemed to dim a bit, but not disappear entirely as she stepped back so that he had no choice but to let go, face flushing a strong cherry color as he noticed his unconscious motion.

They stood there for a moment, neither talking, and he could sense the young woman make some sort of decision in the silence.

"In that case…do you want to have one last cup of hot cocoa…for old time's sake?"

He smiled indulgently, "sure, Ruby, but it's not exactly breakfast time anymore. And I'm not sure if that counts as being part of my one complimentary meal."

"Yeah, but it's about time for me to take _my break_," the smooth skin of her face dimpled cheekily as she winked, pulling out a hand-painting sign stating firmly that she would be 'Back In Fifteen Minutes,' "plus it's so slow in here that no one will notice."

"Are you sure your grandmother won't be angry?" he asked in wary concern, "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble again…"

_Because of me_, his thoughts filled in. He still felt a little guilty about that, after having made her late for work.

"In this I think that she'll be fine," Ruby stated with a wry little chuckle. He had to wonder what exactly made this situation any different than her other instances of skiving off. All that he could see was different was his involvement, "follow me, we'll go to the kitchen."

This, and the two ladies' rooms, were some of the only areas of the Bed and Breakfast he'd never seen before, so the hallways were new, too. Unlike many other areas of the house the frames adorning the walls weren't of nautical maps, botanical sketches or watercolor illustrations. Instead these held a smattering of photos, some black and white and others a rusty faded color in a progression from the 1800's to recent years as they walked to the hidden-away nook.

"Those are Granny's parents and her brothers," she motioned toward the beginning of the thin passage, "most of them died from some sort of blood fever when she was a little girl. And then there's Granny and Grandfather."

Archie noticed that she didn't abbreviate the title of the man. He appeared stern and rigid within the photograph next to an insecure young Mrs. Lucas on her wedding day. He couldn't tear his eyes from the image for a moment. First, the contrast between Granny now versus then—what had she been like as a young woman, he wondered? And what had turned her from this shy figure to the hard-hitting matron she was now?

Also, how had she gotten saddled by such a man as Ruby's grandfather, for that matter?

The thought was jarring, and he wondered where it had come from. But when he looked more closely at the next picture of Mrs. Lucas with her husband and single daughter, his gaze followed the grim turn of their mouths.

"Mom's the little girl. She had a sister, too, but she died when she was a baby," the words were spoken next to his ear, eliciting a jump, but Ruby shared the information in a matter-of-fact manner, having never known the Aunt that had died young, "the next one's of Mom and Dad. He was a cop, and when he died Mom brought me here so that we could live with Granny."

She tapped the next photo, one showing three stalwart generations with no male figures to be seen. Joy seemed to have been rekindled in Granny's eyes, if only slightly, although Ruby's mother looked melancholy. Little Ruby, however, was a cheerful little thing in front of the camera. Smiling slightly from behind a mop of dark hair and a red velvet dress that reached her knees, her arms wrapped around her mother's waist so that she was slightly out of focus.

The next image jumped a few years, and this time Granny and Ruby were alone, the latter shoved into an elaborate red dress with more ruffles than sense. She smiled tightly in the image, closer to a contortion than a positive response, revealing two tin rows of garish braces.

Ruby's eyes dodged to where he was fixated and grimaced right back at it, "Prom. The guy was an octopus. I've got the actual picture from the dance in a drawer somewhere."

Archie found that he had a sudden urge for Japanese Takoyaki, clenching the hand that normally bore his umbrella like a weapon.

The very last photograph was of Ruby at her high school graduation, and the first instance in which he'd seen her in any color but red. The long robes were a blue-green that made her look sallow, and it was the first appearance of her trademark vermilion lipstick and nails.

She'd utilized these two cosmetic changes for the purpose of wry disdain, a twist of her mouth emphasizing the former while crossed arms revealed the latter. Archie wondered if this was the year in which the apron strings had started to chafe about the neck. It was very, very possible.

Before the man could ponder on that further they'd arrived at a swinging door, which Ruby motioned him through.

His first impression was that the kitchen was, well, homey. Which wasn't to say that the rest of the B&B wasn't welcoming. But this private space of theirs seemed not just personable but loving, and he was hesitant to intrude.

The oven was large and made of brick, obviously meant for mass batches of bread and pies the old fashioned way. In contrast their refrigerator was modern, cool blue-grey steel, and wide enough for fruit trays and cookie sheets. But its entire front was littered with quotes and old Polaroids, as though _that_ was its real purpose. A cheerful veneer to combat its cool interior, accessorized with mismatched letter magnets.

One side of the room was a wall of three windows, letting in glorious morning light as it shared a view of Granny's vegetable and flower gardens, with a round table tucked into it.

The simple thing was straight out of the sixties, bearing a metal frame with a vibrant Formica tabletop in vibrant lemon-lime shades of yellow and green. And the chairs were a mismatched set of three—wooden, black metal, and solid red plastic. The former two had actual cushions attached via strings, but were as mismatched as the rest of the kitchen in contrasting pale amber and verdant green.

It was as though the third lost member of their trio might return one day when they least expected it, bridging the gap between Grandmother and Granddaughter as though there never had been a divide.

Repurposed stools from the diner finished the picture, tucked around the lip of a center island, where Ruby was currently placing plates and the fixings for something edible.

The whole place was a mix of utility and comfort; serving a specific purpose while also reflecting the personalities of the women that had lived and breathed their joys and sorrows. And yet he'd been forcibly welcomed into the private space, as though he was already a member of the family.

Sure, Marco had always been like a so—a broth—well, a friend to him. More than a friend; _family_. But this was somehow different in a way that he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"The place looks lovely," Archie shared, voice serene.

She smiled at him appreciatively.

"Thanks, Archie. Granny did a lot of the decorating, and it's definitely changed a bit over the past few years," she patted the icebox, "but there are still little things that remind me of Mom," the waitress fingered a ceramic salt and pepper shaker set depicting a black wolf and a white sheep, before setting the pieces down again. He blinked and tried to ignore the imagery that it conjured.

"How about you take a seat while I pull some food together?" she suggested, beginning to open needed cupboards and, strangely, the breadbox.

The psychiatrist shook his head regretfully, "I can't say for long, Ruby, and neither can you. Once I sit down I know that I'll be trapped."

"_'Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,'_" she quipped, back to him as she retrieved the fixings needed for a good cup of hot cocoa and, what he finally realized, a sandwich or two.

He chuckled appreciatively, "well, I'm not sure if this constitutes a parlor, and I'm pretty sure that you're not out to eat me."

Ruby shot him a look over one shoulder but said nothing at all, and the humor died in his throat. Replaced by a slight sense of both uneasiness and electricity.

_"She…Red Riding Hood was the wolf, wasn't she?" "…yeah."_

_ "Oooh, here she comes. Watch out, boy, she'll chew you up. Ooh, here she comes. She's a maneater…"_

He couldn't remember ever being the recipient of that particular look of hers. It almost looked like her trademark flirtatious wink. But when she resorted to that sort of action it was typically followed by something more demonstrative…not that he'd been watching Ruby's mannerisms all that closely, he hastened to reassure himself.

His hostess' granddaughter tugged him to sit at one of the tall barstools, gripping his wrist with long fingers, the tips a deep brick color. And when one of those fingers pressed against his pulse his thoughts derailed entirely.

What was it that he'd been thinking about?

When she finally let go he felt as though her fingerprints were seared into his skin. Archie swallowed harshly.

"So, what's your preference?" Ruby asked as she dug into the refrigerator, back to him and slightly arched as she searched through its contents. Not that he noticed.

She began waving objects into view over her shoulder in the meanwhile, "we've got ham, tuna, cheese, vegemite—seriously, no joke—PB&J and," she motioned toward the cupboard, "Nutella."

His shoulders sloped in a shrug as he waved a appeasing hand, "I'm all right. The cocoa is all that I need."

The young woman rolled her eyes at him. A move softened by the quick quirk of her lips, "c'mon, Archie. I can't eat alone—that'll just make me feel fat or something."

Without meaning to the gentleman doctor perused Ruby's form from top to bottom, scanning the lean, feminine length of her, "Ruby, I don't think you could ever be fat."

When she remained silent to this statement he glanced upward to find the usually ostentatious girl uncharacteristically bashful. Only then did his ears begin to burn, as his mind replayed what he'd forcibly seen.

"Thanks, Archie. You're a sweetheart," the brunette watched him fondly a moment longer before clearing her throat to continue more brightly, "and don't be so sure about that. It's highly likely I'll end up like Granny."

"A stately, elegant woman in her golden years," he responded. Ruby beamed.

"Now you're just showing off," she winked, "but I'll be sure to pass the compliment on. So!" she clapped her hands together, "you never said what you wanted to eat."

Well, he thought to himself, as long as she was being adamant about it he might as well have a small snack. The ginger man sighed, tossing careless hands into the air before plopping them down on the island counter, "whatever you think is best."

"Nutella it is," she declared cheerily. And he didn't have the courage to ask just what exactly that was.

"How are things going with your house?" she asked as she retrieved a plastic jar from a hidden nook, then a butter knife. Before he could take a gander at the container, however, she'd slapped some Nutella down on their slices of homemade bread and put it away before pivoting back to spread the creamy substance.

He absently found his voice, curiosity still putting him off, "oh, fine, fine," he stated distractedly, "they caught the most of it, but it looks like I'm going to have to replace some of the carpet. I haven't had the chance to check yet, but I'm also a bit worried about my wood flooring getting warped."

She made a face in sympathy, "that would really suck."

The tea kettle chose then to whistle shrilly, and Ruby turned back to attend the screaming object. Only once this had been set aside did she place a mug in front of the two of them—hers red, his green. They looked like a matching Christmas set, as indicated by the hand-painted mistletoe design on their sides.

"You're not trying to poison me, are you?" he joked, motioning toward the cups. The brunette's brow puckered before clearing abruptly, remembering her forest lore.

"Yep, that is most definitely my intent today," giggling, Ruby spooned powdered chocolate drink mix into their opposite beakers, then added a steaming dose of hot water to match. The whipped cream was last as she looked at him expectantly, "cinnamon or no cinnamon?"

"I'm fine," she seemed to only look at him longer, not responding to the ambiguous response, "um, no. Thank you. I appreciate the gesture, though."

"No problem. Here you go, all done!" she placed a plate down in front of him with all the skill of one accustomed to balancing dishes for a living. Although he was still somewhat hesitant to try the food.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

Archie took a bite, "Gosh! This is pretty good!"

She grinned knowingly, leaning with arms folded against the center counter, "and you expected it wouldn't be, didn't you?"

"No, I just," he floundered, "it's a new experience."

"And you're ever the cautious type," her mouth twitched wider still. Finally the woman relented, taking up her own snack in hand, "it's a hazelnut/chocolate spread. Mary Margaret got me hooked on it a while back."

"Oh!" he tucked into it more eagerly, but not without managing a small sip of hot cocoa. Ruby's expression twitched.

"You've got some whipped cream on your face," she said. His reaction was to immediately search for a napkin of some sort, but none was in sight. The young woman just rolled her eyes, "here, I've got it."

Walking around the island table, despite his initial protest, she thumbed something off the edge between check and lips. The spot burned hotter than the chocolate she'd made for him, and even though he'd just partaken of the liquid his throat felt dry as a Midwestern desert, breath hitching.

It disappeared entirely a moment later as she paused a moment then inserted the offending digit into her mouth, wiping it clean. The psychiatrist stared, gaze fixated on the pale lily-white of her skin against the contrasting (albeit more subdued than usual) red of her lipstick.

The waitress didn't seem to notice as she hopped on a barstool nearer to him, dragging her food with her, "waste not, want no, Granny always says," she explained merrily.

Doctor Hopper laughed weakly, trying to set the moment aside, "s-sure, Ruby. Ah," a clearing of his throat went a long way toward a slight appearance at normalcy, "how are things fairing with you and your grandmother?"

"Better," Ruby shrugged so that their shoulders brushed. He wondered if she would notice should he decide to scoot back, creating more space between them. The young woman didn't really have as many problems with personal space as other people did and it was making him…slightly uncomfortable. Not that he didn't enjoy her presence.

"We get along better when have common goals, I've noticed."

"Sorry?" Archie blinked. He'd gotten distracted again.

The brunette smirked as though she knew something that he didn't. And while one part of his being was focused on catching up conversationally, the other part wondered what it was.

"Granny and I. We get along better when have common goals."

"Oh! Yes, I see. Well, that's good. What kind of goals?"

Ruby hesitated for a second, mug in hand. It wasn't the first time she'd done it that day, but seemed the most profound for some reason, "oh, just a…project we've been working on."

He nodded enthusiastically and took another bite of his sandwich, "prepping for the transition from Granny's name to yours as proprietor?"

They'd previously discussed at length her grandmother's intent for Ruby to inherit, making him familiar with a topic that had become increasingly pressing as of late.

"Something like that," she conceded, turning to glance at him over one shoulder. Her eyelids were half closed, as though thinking secretly about something, "it's about my future, that's for sure."

"And what do you have in mind for it?" he couldn't help but ask. It was the counselor in him coming out, following her statement with the next most logical question.

Ruby ducked her head, wordless a moment. And in trying to search out her expression he was surprised to find a hearty blush painting her cheekbones. She scratched at the back of her head almost uncomfortably, displacing a few curls from her bun.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable," he backed up simply, not offended, but she waved away his concern.

"Don't worry about it. It just seems so silly. Especially when you compare it to what I _used to_ want."

Archie nodded encouragingly.

"I wanted to go places, _you know_," a furrow creased between her winged eyebrows, "be somebody. Anybody, really, as long as it wasn't tired ol' me."

Rising empathy closed off his throat for a moment and the redhead nodded, rubbing his fingers together. The other set down his meal, unfinished, "I can understand that."

She looked at him, directly, and he shivered as it pierced him, "can you? Really?"

His mouth twisted into a wry parody of a smile, "believe it or not, I didn't always used to be this way. And even now I get lost sometimes. But I didn't always know what I wanted to do or who I wanted to be. I didn't exactly have the best example growing up."

Her surprise matched his following this revelation. After all, he'd only really told Mother Superior or Marco about his past, so it was a real shock that he'd shared it with her. Still, it felt right to tell Ruby, like he needed to say the words as much as she needed to hear them.

Which meant that he couldn't stop there. Ruby's appearance had opened up in surprise and awe, dumbfounded that someone like him could have come from anything but the best of upbringings.

"…what do you mean?"

"My home was…" oh, if only he could find the words. It was funny how he could get his clients to open up about the deepest of worries and anxieties, purging themselves of the past, when he himself couldn't even tell his best friend—one of two best friends—the truth, "a bit broken. My parents were hippies, if you could call them that." He winced. More like the worst kind of gypsies than true hippies. Peace and love hadn't exactly been on their agenda.

"Roamers. Swindlers," _thieves_. The condemnation was on his lips but he swallowed it. True though the title may be, it wasn't in his character to overly malign others. Even when it was his parents he was talking about, "they lived off the system, taking needed resources from those that truly needed it. And then one day they did something—put me in a situation that made me question who I was—and it was the straw that broke the camel's back," he nodded, action fervent even as his tone grew ever closer to silence. Beside him Ruby's eyes had grown in size.

"What happened?"

"They blamed something on a friend's family that they had done. And made my friend believe that I'd been involved in the deception," it had been one of the worst years of his life.

Sorrow made her forget her lunch, as her cocoa sat idly by, no longer steaming, "you must have been pretty young."

He shrugged, "old enough to know better."

"So what did you do after that?" Ruby instinctively placed her hand on his in sympathy, but instead of leaving it to lay flat he gripped her fingers back, drawing her closer somehow.

"I left."

"You left?" her features said that this was more than she had ever had the bravery to do, and he squeezed her hand to stem the already developing self-aimed criticism.

"And I promised to spend the rest of my life helping people, and doing the best I can," he affirmed, finally happy, "after all, isn't that the whole part of being here? To make the world a little bit better?"

Heat came to Ruby's face, the girl dropping her gaze as she bit her lip. When she finally regained her composure she was smiling shyly up at him, "I guess you're right."

Archie beamed, resisting the strong urge to hug her. Instead he cleared his throat, bringing them back on topic, "anyway, it looks like I've interrupted you. You were telling me about what you want for the future."

"Well, I…" the waitress looked flustered, tuck a flyaway strand of hair back behind the smooth shell of her ear, "I didn't expect it, but I'm actually looking forward to running the B&B now. And the Diner. But more than that…"she fingered the countertop with her opposite hand, drawing out endless swirling shapes, like dream bubbles in sketch form, "I guess I want the same thing that everyone wants. A home, a family. Not that any of those are going to happen any time soon, obviously," she appeared frustrated for a moment, but let it slide, "but I'd like to think that I'll find someone. Someday."

Ruby had fixed her brilliant green eyes on him, the color as rich as the forest which surrounded their tiny town, and Doctor Hopper found that he couldn't move. Their hands had tightened on one another, and the heiress-to-be seemed to come just a hairbreadth closer, nearly whispering now.

"Someone that will treat me the way I deserve. A _Gentleman_. A guy that," she wet her lips, thinking to herself, "cares about me…for me. So that I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not so that I can _feel like_ I'm actually loved."

Their breathing seemed to mingle for a moment in time and he could practically taste her in the air. Full of rich chocolate and Nutella and fresh mint, the raspberry scent of her shampoo a counterpoint.

A chime abruptly sounded. And then it trilled again, breaking the moment fully.

The desk bell.

She had a customer.

All oxygen left Ruby's lungs in a whoosh that was half sigh, half anguish as she dodged back from him. Extricating her fingers from the curl he'd woven so that his first and most immediate feeling was that of loss, the cool air sharp against his skin. It only took him a moment to follow her down through the hall of memories and to the origin of the sound, but he remained in the shadow where his presence might not interrupt the interaction.

"I'm here to collect the rent," Mr. Gold's cool voice explained acerbically, "I waited the requested fifteen minutes, but either my watch is fast or you're late. Isn't that right, my dear?"

He could tell that Ruby was flustered by the pitch of her voice alone, "I'm sorry, Mr. Gold, Granny isn't here right now and-."

"Did I ask the location of Mrs. Lucas?" He cut in cruelly, and Archie could feel something rise up within him. A mix of good old fashioned rage, plus protectiveness and his natural inclination to protect others. And if he had more time he would have probably examined the origin of each one of them more fully.

"No, I didn't. I asked for the rent—and I expect it _now_. On time, in full."

"Granny has access to the ledger and the accounts. I-."

"Do not try my patience, Dearie. You might sorely regret it. A deal is a deal, and I expect to be paid my fair share. If I don't, well…you know the consequences."

And well they did, just like every other business owner in town, including Archibald Hopper. Most of the townsfolk had born unwilling witness to the unofficial impounding of Moe French's vehicle, and had born readership to the article which covered the infliction of his wounds.

But that didn't mean that Mr. Gold had the right to bully Ruby.

Archie was out in the open before he knew what he was doing, righteous fury leading him on. His first view of the scene only added fuel to the fire, consisting of the pawnbroker leaning forward over the counter, menacingly sweet while Ruby cowered back. Half frozen like a deer in the headlights, rather than the huntress that she was.

"I'm afraid that Ruby doesn't have access to the business finances yet," Archie stated clearly and politely, fury tucked away as he reached her in a few short strides. Mr. Gold was clearly surprised, if the flicker of his eyebrows was any indication, "which means that unfortunately she couldn't pay you even if she wanted to."

Once the uncharacteristically heroic white knight reached her side he gripped her shoulder reassuringly, ever-so slightly drawing Ruby behind him.

"It's just like Ruby's said, Mr. Gold," Archie finished with his last ounce of bravery, "Mrs. Lucas isn't in right now, but perhaps you'd like to come back later in the day."

The older man eyed him with the slightest amount of wry disbelief, as though not registering what was before his eyes. But eventually that shifted into something almost…respectful, as he nodded toward the psychiatrist.

"I see," Mr. Gold smiled wryly, eyes resting on the hand Archie had placed on her shoulder, "I suppose that I'll be coming about later then, Dearie? Leave a message with your grandmother. I can clearly see that I'm interrupting something."

Before either of them could protest he walked out, taking his malevolent presence with him. They held their combined breath a moment but when it seemed he wasn't about to return instinctively collapsed into each other, her arms slipping around his waist as his went about her shoulders in a reassuringly hug.

"Thank goodness, I thought he'd never leave," Ruby mumbled into his knitted sweater-vest, her inhalation hot on his collar.

Archie mumbled back into her hair, rocking her form slightly, "well, he'll be back later, unfortunately. If there's one thing Mr. Gold is good at, it's consistency."

She smiled, breathing in his crisp, clean scent, "yep. But it won't be me dealing with him then. It'll be Granny."

The psychiatrist chuckled, "true enough. Although you can't dodge him forever," then he just held on as they hugged, each one of them the other's lifeline. It was a tranquil moment of complete peace, the couples' eyelids closing of their own accord as Ruby burrowed herself even closer to Archie's heat.

Eventually it had to end, however. The man coughed as he realized what kind of position they were in, and the probability of another person entering the Bed and Breakfast, catching said moment. When he attempted to withdraw, however, the waitress held on a little longer, running her palm flat against his back once before reluctantly letting go.

"…thanks for all your help, Archie," she murmured sweetly, mouth tugging up in one corner.

He cleared his throat and nodded, eyes flickering back and forth between her and everything else as he retrieved his suitcase and outer accessories, "y-your welcome, Ruby. Anyone would have done the same."

"No they wouldn't've. Anyone else would have run for the hills."

He blinked, then chuckled in concession, "alright then, not everyone would. But I would have done it again in a heartbeat."

"You would?" she asked hopefully, hands clenched tightly together.

Archie swallowed and nodded, trying to tell himself that his response was only friendly and nothing more, "I would do anything for you, Ruby. Anything for a friend."

Before he could get further entangled, he walked out the door.

~/~/~

AN: Oh, Archie. Granny isn't frustrated with anything you have done, it's what you _haven't_ done yet that's the problem. XD She's about ready to shove the two of you into a closet together at this point. Or at least invite you to dinner, followed by a shotgun wedding.

Takoyaki is a Japanese dish, involving fried or grilled octopus rolled into balls in a wheat flour-batter and covered in sauce.

I had fun designing the kitchen. :) I think that I unconsciously mixed together the home that they have in fairytale land with that of the Oracle from The Matrix. XD Oh, well.

Creating Ruby's Storybrooke background information was a mix of what we know from the fairytale world and what we can assume from conversations she and Granny have had. Archie's past is a revamp of exactly what happened before, only with a more modern twist.

For those who are living on state assistance, I apologize if I've hit a cord. My family received aid for a few years when I was a teen, before my mother got back on her feet. And while there was much good that came from it, there are unfortunately always those that will prey upon others. Whether they be people, institutions, or financial loopholes. The really sad situations were when it involved multiple generations, especially.

The lyrics used in the middle of the chapter are (again) from "Maneater," by Daryl Hall and John Oates.

Nutella is yummy! If your store has some, you should try it out. ^^

"Gosh" was a word that demanded to be used in a sentence by Archie. Mostly as Raphael Sbarge (Archie's actor) said it online through his Twitter account. XD So incredibly adorable.

I broke my previous page length record regarding this chapter: it's 14 pages in Microsoft Word, excluding the author's note.

Thank you again, Cait! I appreciated your review and the fact that you're enthused for the (then, upcoming) flirtation. ^^


	10. Lady in Red Part 1

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 10: Lady in Red/Save the Last Dance (Part 1)

The bar was always crowded this time of night. Which usually Ruby appreciated, but not this time.

No, tonight was different. For Ruby was, in a word, miserable.

And it wasn't even because she was partaking of legal alchoholic depressants, she mused, fingering her tall glass of water. No, tonight her mind was self-indulgently on something—on someone—else.

A certain someone with red hair and twinkling eyes, his form straight and honest and solid; a man that wouldn't get caught dead in here, making it her one place of solace. A location in which she could honestly organize her thoughts without being reminded of him.

Well, it _had_ been her one place of solace. For some reason the usual thrill of excitement and giddy joy wasn't washing over her. Instead the town's half-baked attempt at a club (resembling more of a restaurant-bar, with a tiny dance floor) was filling her with discomfort, as though she'd been away too long and when she had come back someone had rearranged all the furniture.

Or maybe it was just her. Maybe she was the one that was changing.

_The Sleeping Giant_ had always felt like home, before. Especially when Granny's B&B had stopped offering that kind of comfort. Of course, the _Giant_ had always been the rebellious sort of dive that her grandmother was always warning her about, full of shady characters and men who wanted to take advantage of her. She'd neatly sidestepped that peril by being the one taking advantage, flirting with heaven knew how many men in her time.

But she didn't feel like flirting now. Now the place chafed on her senses, like meat gone rancid.

The atmosphere, the looks, the dim lighting. Now it all seemed garish, like a puppet show of humans only acting out their merry little parts. Playing the same game again and again, a scripted rotation of successive meaningless introductions. The neon lights were offset by darkened corners, allowing for anonymity. But even that was only an illusion—nothing stayed secret for long in this town.

In moments like these she almost wanted to believe in Henry's theory. It would be a welcome alternative to the repetitious finality of their monotonous lives.

It was time to act. To give herself a different ending. Maybe even…a happy one? And couldn't she honestly say that Archie deserved one as well, after a lifetime like his. Dealing with swindling parents and patients that tried _his patience_.

She'd chosen the beverage that she had in order to think, to ponder, to regroup. Sure, wallowing in self pity had seemed like a good idea at first. But with her head clear she was more likely to come up with a plan B in her Courting the Gentleman situation. Weeell, plan C. Sort of.

Ruby shifted in her chair, trying to disguise her discomfort and failing. The young woman had selected the quarter-sleeved sheath dress in ruby red (it seemed fitting) from her Grandmother's things. It had been a deliberate effort at looking classy, pearls strung around her neck and her trademark hoop earrings to match. But it just made her stand out—and not in a good way. Like a painting in a sculpture exhibit. Not necessarily bad just…not matching.

She didn't fit anymore, it was plain to see. And she couldn't tell if the change was a loss or a gain. Ruby was hoping for the latter.

But then again, the feeling wasn't completely unfamiliar. She'd always felt a bit like a wolf among sheep; surrounded by individuals that just followed the crowd and went the same direction everyone else was going. Like lemmings. She'd always used this "difference" to her advantage, garnering attention to her herself. Heck, she'd practically lured followers and 'friends' in that way. Which amounted to what, exactly? A long memory of temporary flings and nothing of concrete value. Nothing with a foundation, that she could set store in as she got older and hopefully wiser.

She had no future.

Not without him.

Archie was her anchor—always had been, in one capacity or another. But she was determined that things would change for _both_ of them by making their relationship permanent. By golly, she was going to make him _see_ even if she had to tie him down and kiss him until he was senseless.

Not a bad idea, actually, she thought with a smirk. It was at least straightforward and honest, which he couldn't fault her for. Sure, it would come as a bit of a surprise, but she was certain that he would eventually come around to the idea. If not, she could always continue to persuade him.

Until he finally realized that she was in love with him.

Ruby had being leading up to it for a long time, the accumulation of experiences coming together like a math equation. 'What do you get when you add kindness to humor and throw in a dash of unconditional love? Minus out anger issues, lecherous conduct, bad behavior and what do you get?'

_Husband material,_ her mind joked, _better attach the ball and chain real quick._

But more than that, a man that could love fully without the desire to ever hurt his significant other. She'd been injured so many times in the past, it was almost like breathing fresh air for the first time knowing that he would never deliberately hurt her.

Plus heaven knew he was cute. 'Adorkable' in all the right ways, from his stutter when he was uncomfortable to his full-faced smiles. She could easily imagine a 'forever' for the two of them, and romancing one's own husband was never something to be frowned upon…

Now if only she could get them _to that point_.

She'd tried following Emma's advice with mixed results. Sure, Doctor Archibald Hopper had shown friendship, concern for her welfare, camaraderie, and even physical interest. But it hadn't been _active_ interest. He'd been reacting instinctively as a man to a woman, not intentionally. And there was the rub. Because they'd been just seconds from…_something_ when Mr. Gold had interrupted with his little rent posturing. Then Archie had hightailed it, like a fox with its end on fire. And now the man was back to his usual routine—stammering and blushing and all around treating her like a 'pal'

Maybe the shotgun wedding Granny had joked about over breakfast wasn't as farfetched as she'd thought…

Ruby took a heartening sip of her harmless beverage, half wishing it was something stronger and half grateful that it wasn't. Who knew how she'd act if it was—usually she was a giddy drunk, but in the mood she was in she might lean toward something like violence.

Scanning the crowd, the brunette let herself mull aimlessly when something arrested her attention. She wasn't quite sure what it was, it just felt…off.

Frowning, the waitress secured her clutch purse in one hand and her glass in the other, set on finding what it was that didn't fit. Like a blood hound on the scent, she neatly wove through the sea of townsfolk. She recognized a vast majority, able to tell those that had _just_ come of age to enter from the rest of the throng. And then there were the desperate, the celebratory, the woeful and her Ex's. She sidestepped all until she swarm of people cleared when she neared the bar. Joshy McFadden, a former marine and current bartender nodded to her in greeting before flickering his dark blue eyes to her right.

Ah. There was her quarry.

Joshy had always had a way with words.

A single solemn female perched on the barstool like a bird released from a cage that suddenly realized that it didn't know how to fly. Her back was arched, her hair golden blonde, and frame as thin as a rake. The woman clutched a thin-stemmed glass of something blue colored hard enough that Ruby was surprised it hadn't shattered yet.

The former barfly swallowed once, hard, before deciding to act.

"Hey, it looks like you could use a friend," she'd thought that the waifish figure was Ashley Boyd, having fallen off the love bandwagon or something. But as the words popped from her mouth like stones in a lake, they sunk. Ruby hid her startlement behind a blink, smile never faltering although her eyebrows did jump slightly.

Of all people to find in _The Sleeping Giant_, she'd never expected to come face to face with Kathryn Nolan.

If anything the elegant, if woeful, lady seemed as startled at Ruby's approach as she was. But she took the welcome graciously, if with bemusement, nodding carefully.

"I suppose that's as true as it ever was," she remarked. Then continued honestly, if lowly, "I've never had many friends. And more so now than ever, it seems."

How to continue after an opening like that? Pasting a bright if false smile on her face, the waitress took it upon herself to try her hardest, "in that case, you won't mind me joining you?"

Kathryn blinked, "um, no. Of course not," she waved a hand at the empty barstool beside her, "feel free."

"Thanks," Ruby said in appreciation, settling down both drink and baggage. Both literal and figurative, "so!" she began, a bit too brightly as she laid hands flat on the counter's surface, "I hope you don't mind me asking this, but what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

The question seemed to unlid her emotional well as something appeared to crack behind solemn eyes. Still, Mrs. Nolan held it together pretty well. Ruby was impressed.

"This…this probably doesn't seem much like my kind of…'joint.' Does it?"

Ruby shrugged as though this said everything, a roll of casual indifference, as though it didn't really matter, "not really. My mind says…quilting bee," that got a choked laugh, so she continued, "helping the homeless. Working with nuns. That sort of thing."

"An honest place for an honest woman?" she asked wryly. Which made the waitress somewhat uneasy. She certainly hoped that it wouldn't take that sort of dedication to make an 'honest woman' out of her.

"…I guess I'll never be honest, then," she muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just…talking to myself. About…stuff."

"Stuff?" one ash blonde eyebrow went up, "sounds interesting."

"Oh, very," her pseudo-seriousness fell to chuckles between the two of them, and just like that the ice was broken. Like they'd been best friends forever, the debutante and the maneater.

"So," Ruby started again, expression deliberately bland as she steepled her long fingers together, "I want to ask how you're doing—but I won't. You've probably heard it from everyone and their dog by now," she thought fondly of Pongo and his owner for a moment as Kathryn nodded, relieved. At which point the brunette released her trap, "which leads to my second question, which is really my first. I mean, I don't mean to be rude or anything but what _are_ you doing here?"

Admiration at Ruby's little trick impressed itself upon the waitress as Kathryn smirked, "very sneaky. Not subtle, but sneaky."

She waved a hand in the air, knowing that she looked good doing it, "it's a talent. After all, Joshy over there," she waggled her fingers at the bartender, who nodded conversationally back, "isn't the only one accustomed to serving drinks and hearing woes. Lay it on me, sister."

The other woman's voice was a bit subdued as she said, "you sound like that one man. From the hospital?"

Ruby bobbed a nod, "Leroy? Yeah, he's a good guy. Really deep down inside. Somewhere. Once you get to know him."

"He sometimes stopped by…" Kathryn continued softly, "especially when the nuns where helping out."

"Um, yeah. About that…"

"Everyone has a secret?" her voice was wry as she toasted her glass to an invisible force. But Kathryn didn't seem angry, which was a start. Or _too_ sad. Only a little bit, compared to previously.

"…you were explaining how you got here?"

"Was I?" Mrs. Nolan smirked before relenting, head tilted to the side, "I guess you could say that I was seeing how the other half lives," she awarded Ruby with a half smile, and the young woman wasn't sure how to react, "the hospital released me with a clean bill of health and I…decided that I didn't want to go home. And I realized…that I've never done anything or met anyone in this town, outside of my family's social circle. So…I came here," hands that were held open entreatingly shook slightly from the strain. She ignored this, trying to elaborate, "that is…it was the only place open. And the woods-."

"You don't need to explain," Ruby assured, shivering, "they creep everyone out, even me."

Her companion scanned her intuitively before asking, lips pursed, "you're the one that found me…aren't you?"

The waitress choked as she took a sip of water, leaving her coughing slightly. Only when this cleared did she attempt a response, "um, yep. I guess you could say that."

The blonde's brows arced, "there's more to it than you're saying, isn't there? What else did you find?"

Ruby shifted on her barstool, toying with both her response and her glass, "can we not talk about it…please?"

A little moue of understanding came to the other woman's lips and Kathryn nodded, dropping the subject, "well, to answer the question that you didn't ask—thank you for that, by the way. But I'm, well…I'm fine. Not good or bad but different. Better than fine, though. I filed for divorce today."

"What?" that was definitely news to her.

"Yes," she nodded, "my father works at the bank and he had his lawyer draw up the papers a few days ago. Today they went through. David should be receiving his soon."

"Wow, Kathryn," Ruby blinked a few times, processing, "I don't know whether to congratulate you or say that I'm sorry."

"Neither is fine," one shoulder lifted in a half-hearted expression at nonchalance, "it was just…time. Truthfully, it was 'time' a long time ago. Before everything…happened."

"What made you do it?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Just…David's expression, that's all," she bit her bottom lip, free hand running across her face to tangle in her hair. The waves looked natural and unmanaged, as though in symbolism of the things that she was starting to let go of, "he visited me at the hospital, after. Looking like a kicked dog that had been kicked just one more time. And I just…couldn't hurt him anymore. And couldn't let him hurt himself anymore, out of some act of repentance or a semblance of chivalry, I don't know. He needs to be with the one he loves."

"Mary Margaret won't see him," Ruby commented, then jerked back at her own words. Where had those come from?

But Kathryn appeared just as startled, "what? What are you talking about?"

"Well," Ruby wrung her hands awkwardly, feeling like she was telling a secret that wasn't hers, "after the, you know, the fallout. She told him she couldn't trust him. And then when she was accused of murdering you he thought she might have done it-."

"_What?_"

The waitress pulled back at the vehemence of Kathryn's response, eyebrows nearly reaching her hairline. But Mrs. Nolan was only staring into the crowd, mouth agape as she attempted to process what she'd just heard. One hand was pressed to where her heart would be and Ruby could tell that she was feeling flustered, as though the world had suddenly started turning in the opposite direction.

"…I'm guessing that no one told you…"

"_Mary Margaret_ was accused of murdering _me?_" it seemed that even the so-called victim couldn't grasp the idea, "but…she couldn't hurt a fly, much less kill someone! She raises bluebirds, for heaven's sake!

"That's what we thought. I mean, it is _Mary Margaret_ we're talking about here, "she said sympathetically, tapping one finger against her chin in thought, "but she and David _did_ have the most motive, especially when he kept wandering off. And then when I discovered that heart in her jewelry box-."

"In her Jewelry box?" the blonde was appalled and shocked, having thought that the situation couldn't get any worse.

"Plus Emma found a bloody knife in her room," Ruby continued quickly, wanting to get the story done and over with, "but then I stumbled upon you and it was all moot anyway. The case was dropped."

"But…" and here it was as though she couldn't quite believe the town that they lived in, frowning furiously, "someone _framed_ Mary Margaret! Who could have done such a thing? And why isn't anyone investigating it?"

Ruby winced, "well, we have some ideas. But you're not going to like them."

The soon-to-be Ex-Mrs. Nolan focused on her younger companion, "what do you mean?"

"Weeeeell," better to spill it out now, she supposed, than hide the truth from her, "Mary Margaret said that one night in the jail cell," she ignored Kathryn as she mouthed the words 'jail cell', "she had a visitor. Regina came in and…said something like she deserved to be in there. And Henry and Emma found some skeleton keys that belong to the Mayor. They fit in the apartment door, so it's possible that she could have taken the box and…planted the evidence."

"But…why? Regina is my friend," her newfound friend was near tears and Ruby couldn't help but stretch out her hand to rest her fingers on Kathryn's, if only for a minute.

"We don't know. But Sydney apparently bugged Emma's office and then when she confronted him on it he confessed to doing it all. But he had no reason to."

"No," Kathryn murmured, thinking, "he has no reason to do it at all. Unless he was taking the blame."

They both knew the only person he would take the blame for, which essentially killed the conversation. Ruby cleared her throat in an effort to get back to the main subject.

"Anyway. Mary Margaret is mad at David since he didn't trust her, David betrayed you and then betrayed her, kind of."

"So my asking for a divorce to set him free is kind of pointless, then?" she smiled wryly. But Ruby was instantly shaking her head, curls flying back and forth.

"Of course not! Who knows, he might get a second chance. And if not then it means a new start, for you at least."

Her sharp bark of laughter was not amused, "right. What kind of man would be interested in a woman like me, especially in this small town? Someone whose own husband canoodled behind her back."

"_He_ might," she took a sip of her water as she glanced in the direction of a man across the way. He had the long, lean length of an athlete that applied himself to sports because he enjoyed them, not because he wanted to win. His features were strong and angular, his hair shaggily cut like he forgot more often than not to go to the barber, with a gaze that was clear and firm.

And aimed at Kathryn Nolan.

She seemed startled at Ruby's declaration, then subtly tried to look over her shoulder. And discreet though she was, it was hard to avoid a look so direct causing her to color as the two of them made eye contact. Kathryn flipping back around so that her back was to the man.

"Who is he?" she hissed in question, shoulders hunched as the feeling of someone watching her soaked through layers of sweater and a colorful sky blue scarf.

"Relax, he can't hear you from all the way over there," the brunette remarked, nonchalantly meeting his look and passing him a friendly nod. He returned to his drink, "his name is Jim…something. He's the school Gym Teacher. I think he works with Mary Margaret."

"Oh, that's just _grand._"

Ruby frowned, "she wouldn't talk about you badly, you know. Not even to a coworker."

"Not that. I…" the other woman trailed off, "do you think that he might have heard me…when I exploded? Before, with Mary Margaret?"

"Probably," she crossed one long leg over the other, her mind temporarily wondering what Archie would think about what she was wearing tonight. From what she'd observed he seemed to like her legs… "I hate to say it, but a lot of people heard you. And then when the kids told their parents—."

"It spread like a wildfire," Kathryn swore, and Ruby's brows jumped. Wow. She didn't know that she had it in her. Not that she wasn't trying to cut back on that, too, thanks to Archie's influence. Granny's declaration that swearing made one sound unintelligent and coarse was a somewhat negative incentive. Another thought detracted from her mental tangent, however.

"Wait, you mean you're actually wondering what he thinks about you?"

"Of course," an unfocussed gesticulation followed, as though she couldn't quite explain why, "I care about what people think." But Ruby was already on to other things.

"You know…I seem to remember something about the guy finding your car being a teacher or something. Maybe it's him," her shoulders jumped at the theory, a slow up and down conjecture that reflected her open though process.

"Could be," Kathryn offered in a hushed pitch. In their silence she measured 'Jim' from across the room, and Ruby could see from her blush that she liked what she saw. Even if she felt slightly guilty about the feeling. That would pass with time and an official document of separation from her husband, the waitress mused.

"You really do hear a lot," the banker's daughter stated ironically, scanning the waitress in speculation. Ruby just waved a hand.

"It's a small town."

"Unfortunately."

"Not like Boston," Ruby and Kathryn exchanged looks of commiseration and understanding. It seemed like both of them would be stuck here for longer than they would have liked.

"I just…let people talk. Kind of like what Archie does, but at less of an expense," cringing, she tried to subtly shy away from that topic of conversation, "anyway, it helps that I know all the parties involved, including the Sheriff," she crossed her arms under her chest and leaned back as far as the barstool would allow, "and Billy was the one that towed your car. I asked him about it when I was visiting the Marine Garage—my baby has off-and-on issues, so she needs a lot of care."

"Your…baby?" Ruby knew the look Kathryn was sporting. It said that she didn't think that the waitress was old enough or mature enough to be a mother yet. But somehow Ashley Boyd was pulling it off, and if her best friend was able to juggle the life changes then maybe she could too.

Especially if said motherhood involved curly-topped redheads with blue eyes. Or maybe blue-green ones, she mused, unfocussed as she thought about what their mixed genetics might come up with.

She could almost feel his arms wrapped around her from behind as she held their little one, like a cub in her arms as their heartbeats slowed to match in rhythm. And then he would kiss her ear or her hair, something like that, and speculate out loud what he or she might grow up to be. How they might turn out like him or her, or an entirely different person. As he rocked them both back and forth, safe and secure in his lightly freckled arms…

"Ruby?"

"Um, sorry. Just…thinking for a second."

"About 'stuff,' again?"

"Most _definitely_ 'stuff,'" she coughed, feeling her cheeks blush brighter than the streaks in her hair, "Moving on. Um, my convertible. She's got…issues."

Kathryn took a sip of her fruity little drink, "sounds like we all do."

"Especially the people here," Ruby grinned, and if you'll just listen I can tell you about each and every one of them."

Ruby was smiling fully as she and Kathryn joked. It was good to feel, well, normal again. Lately she'd been so stressed with work and the future and, well, Archie that she hadn't had the time to stop and laugh a little. It did her good. It did them both good, and Kathryn Nolan was turning out to be possible 'good friend'-material. A lot of the uppity-ness she'd unconsciously credited to the woman could be attributed to some shyness; a feeling of disconnect that made her unable to bond with others due to a lack of similarities.

Luckily Ruby was feeling the same way, which made them an excellent match for friendly companionship.

But other than that there was a sense of unfailing honesty that came off of her in waves. In fact, other than Mary Margaret she'd never seen a more honest woman (excluding that whole 'being the Other Woman' thing). It really was too bad that things had turned out the way that they had—Ruby thought that they would have gotten along swimmingly.

"So," Kathryn said, interrupting her thoughts, "I have to ask—is there any particular reason that you're all gussied up in a bar, but essentially alone."

Ruby's face was instantly awash in color, "Oh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

The blonde smirked slightly and the waitress wondered if she could get away with awarding the woman with a nickname of some kind. Like Katie, or something. Maybe Kathy.

"You never know. I'm pretty good with _stuff_ like that."

"Ha, ha," Ruby faked a laugh drolly, "very funny."

"C'mon, I told you why I was here. Why can't you tell me why you're here?"

"Because compared to…everything," she waved a hand over Kathryn in summary, "mine seems kind of petty."

Kathryn smiled and it was bittersweet, "it's about a guy, isn't it? Someone you're not supposed to be with?"

She felt as though her mountain of worry had just been turned into a molehill. To her it was this…oppressive storm cloud of anxiety and worry and this electric attraction between them. But when put like that…

"Yeah, it's a guy," her shoulders collapsed in on themselves.

Kathryn was immediately sympathetic, patting Ruby's hand in echo of the younger woman's earlier move, "So…what's wrong?"

The waitress' expression was nearly as heartbreakingly sad as Kathryn's had been a mere…half an hour ago? She double-checked the bar clock.

"He's about as thick as a brick when it comes to women."

"Ah," understanding made her eyebrows jump, "And you love him."

"I love him. And not to be an 'Ashley' in this situation but…I really, really, _really_ love him. Want to marry him, make babies with him."

Kathryn coughed into her drink, but that could have been a laugh. Ruby wasn't quite sure.

"And what's worse is that I keep getting mixed suggestions. Granny said that gentleman like to start things off as friends, and then move toward something more-."

"She advised that you _friend-zone_ him?" even Kathryn seemed appalled at the idea.

"_Exactly,_" Ruby was _so incredibly grateful_ that they were on the same page. She leaned up against the bar counter in relief, "And then when things started working out so that we were comfortable with one another…nothing happened."

"He didn't question your increased 'friendliness'?" the blonde queried, frowning.

"No. Sooo," she ran a hand over her face, careful to avoid smearing any makeup as she tangled her fingers minutely in her hair, "I talked to Emma, and Emma gave a green light to some flirtation. But that didn't work out. I mean there was _something_ there, for a little while, but…"

"How close did you get to…_something?_" Kathryn's lips twitched at their use of code words, like schoolgirls at play. But the reigned in the humor for the sake of her newfound friend.

Ruby bit her lower lip, head bobbing thoughtfully, "pretty close. Until duty called and he headed for the hills like a wolf was nipping at his heels."

"Maybe in a way one was."

Ruby frowned, "what do you mean?"

"Ruby…" she paused, rubbing the side of her face in thought as she attempted to make sense of what to say, "I can't really advise much not knowing who he is. But from what I've heard…you sometimes come on a bit strong."

"That was _weak _for me."

"Yes, but if this guy is as much of a 'gentleman' as you say," she tossed her hands up in the air helplessly, nearly knocking the person beside her in the process. Congenial enough despite his appearance (hawk nose, lumpy skin, uneven shoulders and armor-like clothing), he took one look at the blonde and smiled. Then continued his conversation with his bald, mustached companion.

Ruby blinked, thinking that she had seen a…hook for second there? But the man only sported an amputee's false limb, molded to resemble his natural skin color. She tried to pay attention.

"Then maybe he's not accustomed to female attention…_at all_," her expression of wincing sympathy seemed to say that she wanted to continue but was hesitant to do so. The barfly waved her on, "you should probably just…be honest with him. Find a way to tell him and then give him some time to react."

"Instead of kissing the daylights out of him, you mean?" the younger woman asked tartly, smirk a wide slash of red as she pondered her options, thought on her companion's suggestion and found it sound.

Kathryn had the grace to laugh, albeit quietly, "preferably, yes. Just remember that men tend to be literal. I didn't learn much from being married, but what I do know is that inferring and assuming that he knows what you're trying to say nonverbally is just going to frustrate you more. Be upfront."

Ruby dipped her head thoughtfully, taking another swallow of her drink, "I think I can handle that." The only question was _how_.

Her smile dropped abruptly as the same gut feeling which had led her to Kathryn sounded again. Anger, tension, and animosity burned at her back and she felt a rush of fear shoot through her. She'd always trusted her senses in the past and right now they were telling her to run.

Reacting on instinct, she whirled around out of her seat, knocking a hand that was trying to grasp her shoulder in an about-face. The fist she had grasped around her glass swung outward, splashing her assailant with the dregs of water Ruby had yet to down. Still, it was enough to incite a bellow of rage.

Making sure that Kathryn was out of range in the corner of her eye, Ruby turned to face her assailant.

~/~/~

AN: This was so long, it ended up being a two-parter. –facepalms- Forgive me. Part two will be up soon.

Kathryn wasn't intended for this chapter: Emma and Ashley were. And only as side commentary for the main event. But Kathryn said that it was her turn, thank you very much, and who am I to argue? Especially when she's willing to give out such good and practical advice. "Talk to the man." Who woulda thunk it? ^_^;;

I imagine that no one wanted to be the one to explain what happened while Kathryn was gone. ^^; One of those, "we don't really want to dwell on the past," situations. Especially with the circumstances being so fishy. Yes, I realize that we're starting to get preeeeetty close to the finale. I'm working on it, I promise. ;)

I actually don't drink one bit and I've only been in a bar twice (once for a piano duel, and once when my friend was performing with his guitar), so writing this chapter was kind of a new experience for me. Interesting and exploratory and new.

Joshy McFadden is entirely made up and not based off of any well-known character. After all, regular people got caught up in the mix as well. (He is, however, named after Josh Dallas and Matthew McFadden. The narrator voice from the new Pride and Prejudice just kept running through my head. –coughs out a laugh-)

Some of you might have noticed: I tend to use phrases that are from my mother's generation. Forgive me my idioms. ^^;

It's not the Snuggly Duckling but hey, every bar scene needs a few rogues. ;)

Lastly, I didn't expect for her 'attacker' to be so violent. Or for Ruby to throw water at him. But she said that she did, so I wrote it in. –shrugs- All will be revealed next time.


	11. Save the Last Dance Part 2

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 11: Lady in Red/Save the Last Dance (Part 2)

~/~/~

Archie wasn't normally physically violent, but there was something about the three men sitting at the table next to him that made him want to strike out. It could have been any number of things. Or it could have possibly been their topic of conversation.

A conversation he shouldn't even be listening in on. For one, he typically was out walking Pongo this time of night. For another…_what was he even doing here?_

_Trying something new._ He'd reminded himself of that important detail again and again as he had begun his preparations earlier in the day. After all, Archie had long had the urge to shake things up a little; to change his life and have an adventure or two (or as much of an 'adventure' as he was willing to attempt).

So, he explained away his sudden need for drink and merry company to this drive for improvement, for transformation, and for experimentation. It had nothing to do with the strange stirrings he'd been feeling lately, of course, and it _certainly_ wasn't being caused by the increased presence of his good friend Ruby.

His amazing, funny, intelligent, incredibly gorgeous friend Ruby.

Or her long legs.

Dr. Hopper had been having a hard time keeping his mind off of either, but he was _determined_ that in all things he would treat her like a gentleman—even in his thoughts. It was just taking more effort than he was accustomed to.

He'd chosen a dark blue button-up shirt and deciding to ditch the "nerd" look for one evening, opting to forgo on wearing a tie or sweater-vest. But he had felt almost naked without his usual armor, so had thrown on a black sports jacket. Nothing tweed, and nothing twill. The article had appeared at the back of his closet, and while he'd been surprised he'd also been grateful.

After all, it _was_ time to branch out a little, but he didn't know if he could deal with the indignity of buying new clothes. He shuddered at the thought of entering _Modern Fashions_. It was just…too much.

_The Sleeping Giant_ had been chosen well in advance as a prime location for his first foray in adventuring. Well, not prime, exactly. It was just that most of Storybrooke was locked up this time of night, as respectable folk took a well-deserved rest for the day. Which left the company of less respectable folk as his only option.

Of course, now that Archie was here he couldn't help rethinking the idea. The bar was full, tables occupied, and at this point it was standing room only. Leaving him trapped just a few yards in from the door, stuck as an unwilling witness to the social degeneration of the human species.

Archie fisted the hands he'd shoved into shallow pockets as he stood trapped behind a trio of drunkards whose sole occupation was discussing a certain Storybrooke waitress.

"She couldn't get enough of me," the most repulsive of the three slurred, a candle-maker by trade named Harold. During daylight hours Archie knew him to be a respectable business owner, well-kept, financially responsible if a bit prone to loud laughter. But intoxicated by night, and sitting to the good doctor's immediate right, he was a grotesque figure with a curled lip and scowling features, "so I don't know what she's playing now, turning her back on all of us."

The 'she' was of course Ruby. Archie clenched and unclenched his fingers within his sports jacket, teeth gritted and expression set in a stubbornly neutral expression. He didn't approve of badmouthing others even in normal situations, but the fact that it was one of his closest companions being discussed made him want to jump in, fists flying.

Of course, the rage he was feeling had nothing to do with jealousy, he told himself in justification. His anger was only the end result of his protective defense mechanism; the same one which acted up whenever anyone he cared about was being maligned.

The first of the three men, on the psychiatrist's left, was Tomas from the deli. Sporting a somewhat scruffy beard, he had a dark complexion and intelligent eyes. The man exchanged a look with the middle figure, a baker named Richard, as he fingered the neck of his beer bottle, "I don't remember it happening that way."

Some of the red haze coloring Archie's vision faded a bit. But only just. Doctor Hopper unconsciously began rubbing his finger and thumb against one another, back and forth hard enough that at one point a knuckle popped.

Harold scowled and flung his arm out in an angry sweep, spilling outward some of his tankard in the process. A shout of shock sounded as a woman with short brown hair and large green eyes got splashed with the edge of the backlash. Her companion, a lanky man with a goatee, frowned and moved the two of them away as he offered her his jacket.

"Rumors!" Harold sounded, firmly, in an attempt at innocence.

"I don't know," Richard said, running a hand through sandy brown hair. Of middling height and nondescript features, he was a pleasant if average man, "wasn't there something about a black eye-."

"Bee sting! Had nothing to do with _her!_" the portly, balding man interrupted, "which isn't important. All I'm saying is she…she's thinking she's _better_ than us! We see neither hide nor hair of her-."

Archie had had enough. Attempting to squeeze past the unfortunate victims of the flying mug incident, he firmly set aside the conversation in the search for some liquid refreshment. Or at least the existence of a familiar face. Frowning, he tried to move away.

"You do know that she is here tonight, right?" Tomas' voice carried.

Behind them the good doctor jerked to a stop.

Then the reaction came that he'd been trying to block.

Increased pulse rate. Quickened breathing. His hands moistened slightly in the heated crowd.

Pale eyes scanned the room, but couldn't see anything. Only then did he manage to calm enough to pay attention. But even so, he was reminded of what he'd really come here for: _her_.

A myriad of colors—red and brown and green and white—flashed in his mind's eye, reminding him of moments of laughter and sadness and anxiety and cheer. Archie had enjoyed their shared company, particularly in that time when he'd been an accidental lodger. And in the days since he'd felt the loss of that welcoming 'home away from home' acutely.

No, it hadn't been the B&B's absence, he forced himself to acknowledge. It had been _her_'s. He was going crazy because _she_ wasn't near him…_and he couldn't figure out why_.

_You know, lying, even to yourself, won't get you anywhere._

He could hear his own voice, aimed low as though being pitched toward a patient during a session. And the truth was that it was right-he'd be lying to himself if he kept this facade up.

Archie was attracted to Ruby. It was as simple as that.

Then again, what man wasn't attracted to Ruby? The distasteful male in front of him was a point in fact. But in Archie's case he at least had an alibi—he blamed Henry.

It had been the child whom had placed the idea in his head, and then had reinforced it every chance he got. And his storybook wasn't much help. Archie felt sympathy for the fictional character that was Red Riding Hood, but more than that he felt empathy for the Ruby Lucas that he knew.

His mind was stuck on replaying every moment between the two of them. Talks in the diner, holding hands on Career Day, talking about books and events over breakfast. He loved the swing of her hair when it was a sheet of dark silk floating over her shoulder, and was fascinated by the way that it seemed to frame her face when she let it curl.

And then there was the liveliness of her personality. She was an individual that listened with her whole self, never wavering. Every person she spoke to felt as though her eyes and ears and attention were completely on them, a focused point from which she would never deviate. To a man accustomed to remaining silent first and speaking second, it was a heady experience. Especially when her eyes lit up and her lips twitched in a wide smile.

Ruby was intelligent, loyal, and loving. It was as simple as that. And Archibald Hopper, too old, too stodgy, too conservative for a modern girl like her, was a bit smitten.

When he _shouldn't be_. He really shouldn't be. But when they'd been having that lunch together, just before he left Granny's Bed and Breakfast, _something_ had sparked between them. A hovering something which had made his heart lurch and his mind open wide with possibilities. He'd felt like drawing her close in that moment, tucking her head underneath his chin before arching down to place his lips on hers. Which had startled him more than anything else in this world or the next.

The new sensations had caught him entirely off guard, paired with his characteristic need to defend her from Mr. Gold, and he'd run out of there like a bat out of…well, he'd made a run for it, anyway. Since then it was becoming harder and harder not to think about their interlude, and he'd tried distancing himself from her in an effort to break himself of this new attraction between them.

Which _shouldn't be!_ They were friends, by all that was good! And he didn't want to wreck that. When he'd expressed his concern to Marco the man had just laughed and said to trust in his heart. So he hadn't received much aid from that corner.

He might pretend that his reasons for coming involved his search for adventure. But the truth was that he needed a distraction tonight, and had hoped that he would find it in _The Sleeping Giant_.

A plan which had failed entirely.

True, it was one of her regular haunts. And perhaps his unconscious had led him here in the hope of seeing her.

But he'd heard that she hadn't been around the establishment lately and had been somewhat wishing that she wouldn't be returning anytime soon—Ruby seemed more calm and cheerful without the liquid crutch…and the desire for male companionship.

His disappointment that she was present was paired with a certain sense of guilt as he thought about his own presence in the bar, the pot calling the kettle black. Still, it was definitely a surprise and made his nerves jump in a backward mix of anxiety and anticipation.

On the off chance that she wouldn't be present he'd been eager to use the time alone to mull over what he'd learned. To analyze his reactions to her and her reactions to him, but it looked like he wouldn't have that time for his leisure.

"—And then she _strolls_ in like she owns the place!" the drunk continued as though he hadn't been interrupted.

"Strolling? Really, Harry," Richard sighed, shaking his head. He took a sip of his own drink, a glass of rum that he was partaking of conservatively. Of the three of them he seemed the most tired with the conversation, as if it were an old one that had been rehashed too many times to count.

Tomas only frowned, "she doesn't look happy. I don't know why you are so angry with her, Harold. She's just sitting. Not even flirting today."

_That_ he didn't want to hear about. Archie again attempted to edge around them, to no avail. He was tired of this talk. And if Ruby was present, then…

"Well, I heard that she's found someone."

Richard had said the words, the most sober of the three, and his tone was half speculation and half admiration. The doctor was arrested, completely frozen in place.

The deli-worker's surprise was similarly palpable, "really? Who?"

"No one knows. But Jackson and Pete have some ideas."

"What do those bozos know?" Harold demanded, banging his tankard on the table. He was no longer responding violently but was still belligerent as he buried himself in liquid courage.

Both of his companions ignored the man, sharing open information across their raised round table. Positioned as they were they had a clear view out into the building's main thoroughfare, affording them with almost all of the place's interior, but their eyes were trained on the bar for some reason. A series of wooden arches highlighting tall bottles and decanters in a rainbow of translucent color.

Without thinking about it Archie found himself instinctively pulling up a chair just out of sight, able to see their expressions and hear their voices as a sudden clenching attacked his stomach. Ruby had found someone? Who could it be?

"They say that she's found a straight-shooter. And that she's trying to become someone else. 'Change her ways.'"

Tomas nodded thoughtfully, "I noticed that she was dressing differently. Acting different, too."

"So what's she doing _here_, then?" Harold hiccupped, eyes starting to blur. It seemed no matter _what_ she did she was to be condemned for it. Archie half wondered exactly what it was that Ruby had done to offend the man, then changed his mind. He really didn't want to know.

Richard shrugged, "dunno. But it's like Tomas said—she didn't look happy. Maybe something happened."

The main in question nodded, "yes. That's too bad, though. She's a nice woman and deserves to find love somewhere."

"Who do you think it is?" the baker asked speculatively, sipping his drink. Tomas shrugged and opened his mouth to speak, but not before their third companion could interrupt loudly.

"Probably some dandy with too much money and a possessive soul to match! I say it's Gold."

Feeling wrath welling up again, the psychiatrist seriously pondered interrupting the conversation with a well-placed fist.

Richard shook his head, thinking, "no, not with her grandmother's rent hanging over their heads. Especially since I heard the place is going to hers some day."

Tomas nodded and took a small swig of his drink, "well, who is left then?"

"It has to be someone that'd treat her like a lady; a real gentleman. She wouldn't wear those duds for just any man. Did you see those pearls around her neck?"

"Si," Tomas affirmed. Leading all three men to mull for a moment before he straightened, "do you think that it could be Doctor Whale?"

Both Harold _and_ Richard scoffed.

"Not in a million years," Harry sneered, "she hates him more'n me." Richard nodded. Apparently there was one thing that they could agree on.

"Maybe Mike Tillman," the baker offered up instead. Archie shifted uncomfortably, recognizing that yes, such a match would be good for Ruby. But somehow he immediately hated the idea, despite the progress he'd seen in the man as he had slowly grown into the role of being a father, "Ruby's been spending time with that new daughter of his."

"But only the nina, not the padre," Tomas pointed out. He tapped the glass of his bottle, "what about that doctor?"

"We already said-."

"No, _no_. The other one. El Medico por locos. Psiquiatra."

"Tomas, we don't-."

"Hopper! The red-haired man."

All four men fell silent, including Archie in his hiding place. It was as though the rug had been pulled out from under him, he was in such shock. All he could hear was his own name being replayed, over and over, as though a death sentence was falling upon him.

Well, he'd asked for a sign the other day. He'd received an afternoon's attention from Ruby, followed by an almost…something. Since then his mind had plagued him with questions and reminders of her; enough to drive him truly batty. And if that hadn't been enough, this definitely counted as a sign. Especially when Tomas's companions joined in to speculate on the possibility.

"…you know, now that I think about it, she has been spending a lot of time with him lately…"

"Never did like the man. Dog's always getting out, barking late at night."

The three of them moved off, finished with their repast. The shocked counselor remained as stiff as a board and twice as solemn, resembling more of a gravestone than a man.

Ruby. And him. Was it even possible? Archie had definitely 'woken up' when it came to her, but how could she even be interested in him…? She deserved so much more and… Did that mean that the almost-'something' that had almost occurred had possibly been an _intentional_ almost-something…? So how was he to react…what was he to do?

Staring out into the crowd, Dr. Hopper pondered on the situation he was in. Only to be almost immediately interrupted.

Someone shifted into the seat beside him and Archie looked up in surprise, half-recognizing the man but only distantly. He'd probably never treated him before, was the automatic thought, and the psychiatrist almost cursed himself for his reaction. He didn't need any distractions right now.

"Hi," the stranger said outright, hand held out for a firm grip, "we've never met before. I'm Jim. And it looks like you've just been trapped by the terrible trio."

Archie swallowed harshly, wishing he had something to drink, "trapped is a good word for it…"

"Then you've heard the news, I'm guessing?" The other man didn't wait for him to finish, she continued speaking.

"N-news?" his pale baby blues popped up at this, and Jim smiled wryly behind a roman nose that seemed to match the rest of his friendly, angular features perfectly. A young man as physically opposite from Hopper as you could get. Someone he could see Ruby actually falling for…

"Her," the psychiatrist followed the man's pointing finger to the bar area, and was stunned to find Ruby in profile as the crowd began to part. Chatting with Kathryn Nolan as though they'd been friends forever. The latter woman looked healthier and happier than she had in months, even a few years. Since before she'd gotten married, "and you."

"A-and me…?" Archie shakily echoed.

Jim slapped a hand upon his back congenially, "let me get you a drink."

Who was he to argue with a declaration like that?

When 'Jim' returned with two beverages, a scotch for Archie ("you seemed like the scotch type") and a bottle for himself, the doctor latched onto the drink like it was a lifeline. Yet didn't partake of it beyond the first sip. The tall man with light brown hair looked at him speculatively for a few minutes, then nodded.

"That bad, huh?"

"W-what? No!"

"Mmm-hmm," his stranger-friend nodded, "you know you shouldn't lie. Especially to someone whom knows what it's like to love someone that's off limits."

"What…?"

"Look again."

So Archie did. Seeing Ruby and Kathryn Nolan.

_Kathryn Nolan_, the victim of scandal. The woman scorned, the woman thought dead and lost. The woman currently trying to find solace in a bottle and a crowded room. Just like him.

"Ah."

"'Ah' is right, Doc. And I've never even spoken to her once," the man barked out a laugh and tossed his drink from hand to hand across the table, the sound of glass scraping across the tablecloth a rare sound, "still, I can't help thinking about her."

Archie blinked and pointed at the man as synapses fired and he suddenly remembered a conversation he'd once hand with David. Recently, in fact, at the beginning of a session, "you're the one who found her car, aren't you?"

Jim gave him a sideways glance, smile rueful, "the very one. I've been worried about Mrs. Nolan ever since, checking the woods with no news from the sheriff except that there _was no news._ And now, suddenly, _bam_, she's sitting in front of me and I can't even get up the guts to ask if she's okay."

"I'm sorry?" the redhead expressed, frowning. He wondered how much the man had already had to drink and if he knew that Archie was off duty, psychiatrist-wise. He opted not to say anything. Clearly there was a purpose to this man's actions and his words, and he was willing to be an anchor and a friend in an unfamiliar place. Especially after having been gifted with a free drink. Archie wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"So I saw you with that bowled-over look on your face, came to an apparently accurate conclusion, and decided that commiserating together is better than moping alone," he paused, nodding thoughtfully to the side as he deliberately avoided eye contact for a moment, "they're not the only ones that have guessed that it's you, by the way. There's a betting pool going around, but I won't tell you who you're competing against. Cheers."

"Cheers," Doctor Hopper responded miserably, taking another small sip of his poison of choice before nursing it in his hands.

Jim took a slow swill, eyes never leaving his prize, "so. This leads us to a question. You're single. She's single. Both of you are unattached, no skeletons in the closet, and you apparently like one another. What are you going to do about it?"

Archie spluttered, "w-what? Are you crazy. She'd never look at-!"

"A hard-working, honest man who treats her like a lady?" Jim interrupted flatly. Well. There wasn't much that he could say to that, "I hate to say it, but I think that the only one that can't see it is you."

"Y-you must be mistaken. She…Ruby isn't interested in me. I'm not her 'type.' And what's more, it…it.."Grasping for something to say, Archie fiddled with his glasses while ignoring his blush through sheer determination, "it's slightly more _complicated_ than that. We're _friends_. I couldn't infringe upon her time like that. Plus she's so _young_—she has better things to do than spend time with someone like me."

The man beside him only gave him a piercing look, informing Archie wordlessly that he was only feeding him excuses.

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or you? The woman _I'm_ interested in almost _died_. _Was dead_ for a while. And she's _still_ married. Compared to that, you've got nothing to worry about."

"David's heading for Boston," he mumbled in answer. But the minute the information had swept past his lips Archie felt like cursing himself, fists clenching as he mentally banged his head against the table. That data had been given to him in confidence—his patient hadn't even informed his _estranged wife_ yet. And yet somehow the psychiatrist had spilled the truth to some stranger like he was handing out candy.

"Really?" it was apparently the best news that the man had heard all night, his eyebrows jumping and expression opening.

"N-now, that information is not well-known! Please don't spread it around that I-!"

"Relax, Hopper," his unexpected companion smiled, calming him yet again with a hand gripping one of his shoulders, "I won't saying anything. It's just…good to know. She deserves better than that."

He bit his lip at the urge to say that David _was_ a good man. Even after finding out what he and Mary Margaret had hidden for so long. It had been just as startling as when he'd found out about the second party involved—the choice to stray had been out of character for both of them. Still, people did things they normally wouldn't for the sake of love. And that relationship had apparently been on the rocks long before their resident schoolteacher had even entered the picture. No excuse, but still…

Maybe in leaving David would give them all a chance at a new start. It was possible. Especially if this Jim fellow was as intent on Kathryn's welfare as he seemed.

"I'll go over and talk to her if you talk to the waitress."

_That_ made his head whip around, "_what?_"

Jim smirked slightly and took a swill of his drink before setting it back down, "I'll talk to Kathryn if you talk to Ruby."

"I could never do that! I-."

A crash interrupted whatever it was he had been about to say. And Archie's heart dropped as he realized where the sound had come from.

_Oh, no_.

~/~/~

Harold Waxly shook himself like a bull as he turned to face his quarry, the water she'd thrown at him coming off of him in a sprinkler effect. His left hand was still clenching and unclenching as though in the process of grasping Ruby, while the right was occupied with a quarter-full bottle. Which apparently wasn't his first.

Ruby blinked at the sight of the inept lecher in the act of the violent assailant, but didn't have time to stare for long as he began waving around his glass accessory like a weapon. She turned to tuck Kathryn further behind her and was startled to find that someone had beaten her to it. The local gym teacher gave her a firm nod as he grasped the blonde by the arm and shoulder, moving her safely away as she protested all the while.

But that was nothing next to the surprise of seeing a flash of red hair and glasses from within the crowd.

She shook her head at what _had to be_ a mental illusion. Just because she wished to see him there didn't mean that he was actually there. And she couldn't afford any distractions right now.

Fumbling behind her for something defensive, her hands scrambled on her clutch purse. With the leather cords wrapped around her wrist, however, she felt much calmer. It wasn't much of a protection, but her instincts told her that it could substitute for either an emergency shield or a slingshot in a heartbeat.

Ruby could almost feel a growl growing beneath her skin.

But first, she would try and talk sense out of the man, "Harold, what are you doing?"

"Giving you what you deserve, witch!" he yelled irrationally. The multitude that had previously been a milieu of chatting people was falling silent in a ring around them. Most looked appalled at the man's actions, but were unwilling to interfere. Which meant that her only hope was Joshy at the counter. Except…that he wasn't there.

Ruby mentally cursed. She would have to stall for time.

"Harold…_Harry_," she ducked a badly aimed swing, only her reflexes saving her from what could have been a bad tumble, "I don't know what you're talking about. Please, I can't make anything right if you don't talk to me."

His eyes glared at her through a haze of boozy anger, "you know what you did. Fooled with me, humiliated me, then show up like some _tart! _Slinking around with other men, laughing at me behind my back."

Her head jerked with hurt and surprise. It was one thing to hear the words coming from her Grandmother's mouth—she almost expected them. But quite another to hear them tossed about in front of what consisted of a solid third of the town. She could feel an irate flush suffuse her skin, but whether it was rage or horror she couldn't pinpoint—possibly somewhere between the two. Was this really what everyone thought of her? Why was no one trying to stop him from speaking?

"I didn't humiliate you, Harold. I just…don't think that we should be anything more than friends."

He sneered, "_friends_," he waved a hand out into the crowd, where ducked heads and embarrassed looks abounded, "you're 'friends' with most of the men here!"

She gasped, "Harold, all we had was one date. _Just one!_ Just because I turned you down doesn't mean that I'm-."

"A slut! _Whore!_ You're the underbelly of Storybrooke, the Jezebel of Maine!"

Any action she might have considered died as her world seemed to ice over. Each epithet was a nail in her social coffin, and a direct stake to the heart. Almost in slow motion she could see him move forward on shaky legs, bottle raise ninety degrees as though he was intending on smashing it over her head. All she could see was how he saw her, and all she could hear was the roaring in her ears. Until, a shift of fresh air brushed through the throng and her world fell silent.

"I think that that's enough for today, _Harold._"

Then, in a moment which was never to be repeated again, mild-mannered Archibald Hopper landed his fist into Harold Waxly's face. Crumpling the man with a single blow.

His fist was neither as experienced nor as swift as hers might have been, but it did the job. Knocking the drunk off of his face and flat on his back. Seconds after him came Joshy, finally freed from whatever tasks had plagued him. The brawny, entirely bald man with sleeves rolled up scowled with his one good eye out across the crowd as though daring them to say anything, and abruptly the throng of trapped figures dispersed, like a lynch mob doused with river water.

Ruby collapsed against the bar counter, gasping for breath as tears crowded themselves in a blurry veil before her eyes. Archie shook his wrist, wincing, then took one look at her and immediately acted.

"Come on, Ruby, let's go outside," the waitress could only nod, noticing neither the dodged glances nor the fact that Kathryn had a strong arm wrapped around her. All she could focus on was putting one step in front of another. Her heart pounding with the knowledge that no matter how she changed her exterior, the people she knew would always see her as nothing more than the village's prostitute.

They exited the building and the psychiatrist immediately circled his arms around her, his right more loosely placed on her waist than the one on his left, which gripped her back like it never wanted to let it go. Only then did she release her feelings of anguish, crying into a shirt as dark as the night and as blue as her feelings. She wrapped her arms around his neck, forehead pressed against the pulse of his neck.

It was rushing as much as hers was, but with time it slowed. Until she finally calmed enough to notice that Archie was rocking back on forth with her in his arms, humming with what little music they could hear at their backs. Every now and then she could feel something press against the softness of her hair, although she didn't dare guess what. To guess was to have her hopes dashed, and she couldn't afford another heartbreak tonight.

Only when her sobs turned into hiccups did the psychiatrist sigh and draw slightly away, pained fingers coming up to wipe the last streak of tears on her cheeks. He gazed at her, and if she was daring she might have called it loving, but all she could attribute it to was his natural kindness.

Normally his stutter would be more pronounced at a time like this, but in this case it was calm, direct, and soothing. Without any sense of hesitance or worry, "do you want me to walk you home, Ruby?" His thumb rubbed in a smooth circle against her back, a soothing presence.

She gave him a tremulous smile, lip wavering, and nodded, "that would be wonderful."

And so, hand in hand, they made their way back to Granny's Bed and Breakfast. Never speaking on what had just happened. There would be time for that later.

~/~/~

AN: Wow. Didn't expect that. I mean, I was sort of planning for a fight scene and then a dance scene, but Harold really let that one out, didn't he? And I expected dancing. Where in the world did the dancing go? D: Well, I suppose I can always save that for a one-shot or something. Anyway, sorry about the wait, everyone!

Tomas, Richard, Harold: Tom, Dick, and Harry. The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick-maker. Tomas is channeling two coworkers that I adore. Jackson=Jack and the Beanstalk. Pete=Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater. For a review of the characters, check out chapter seven. :) There's a hidden princess in this one, by the way. ^^

Si=yes. Nina=girl. Padre=father. El medico por locos=the doctor for crazies. Psiquiatra=psychiatrist. Should I have changed Psiquiatra for Psiquiatro? Not sure.

Frederick/Jim (I checked the wiki) is fun to write because we have, what, three sentences of dialogue to work with? He's a mystery to us, other than being a protective, hard-working guy. So he's not quite sure what to do when this married woman who's been hurt and missing and locked up stirs feelings in him that are protective and chivalrous.

Note: There aren't a lot of RedXCricket videos on Youtube, so I decided to fill in the gap by creating one. :) In case if you want to watch it, here's the link: www. Youtube watch ?v= P4dmo KfmTos (delete the blanks)

Also HOLY FREAKING COW! _Slfnweitqoqwe!_ If you haven't checked this out yet, you should: the Deviantart artist Patatat has created some _beautiful _RedXCricket art, including this scene from, "The Gentleman," chapter 5. patatat . deviantart art/ The - Gentleman – 314154022 (fill in the spaces) I really, truly wish that you could see my face right now. :D

This is a long Author's note. I apologize. ^^;


	12. A Little Less Conversation

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 12: (A Little Less) Conversation

~/~/~

Archie fidgeted in his seat. To say that he was nervous was a bit of an understatement. After all, he'd known that the situation wasn't going to be easy after what had happened.

An intended peaceful evening of pondering his situation, a friendly conversation, and the chance at maybe…working something out or discussing something potentially…_romantic_ with Ruby—all gone in an instant. Ruined by an embittered rival with a score to settle and a mouth fouler than the Hudson river.

And now they were all trying to pick up the pieces.

Harold hadn't been seen at his shop for a few days now, and it was rumored that he was taking a brief vacation to tend to his bees. Archie and Jim had talked once more since that night at the bar, the former introducing him to Marco and the latter informing the first about how he'd gotten up the guts to ask Kathryn Nolan out. She'd said 'not yet'—not until her divorce was finalized. Which was as good as a 'yes' for the both of them.

And Ruby…

Ruby was working. Working her way through her grief with a painted-on smile, eyes dark and thoughtful when she thought that no one was looking. It hurt him to see her that way, but it hurt him even more to have her withdraw from his friendship. Well, he felt both hurt and a little guilty—he could honestly say that he'd done the same after their lunch 'date,' pulling back in order to clear his head. So he really couldn't fault the young woman for doing the same.

But the look Granny had given him over the counter had said to just give her some time. He remembered reading something, a cross-stitched sampler at the nunnery a long time ago, which stated that, "In Time This Too Shall Pass." The thought heartened him, and he'd settled in to wait.

Until Ruby had called him up to schedule an actual appointment. The conversation had been short and direct; calm in every tone and word. But still he was nervous. Because now…somehow he knew that this would be different. And that they weren't just friends anymore.

Since then the psychiatrist had spent his time dwelling on the history between them, unremembered start to recent finish, and he thought that maybe he'd found an answer. But he wasn't sure yet.

Archie would have liked to say that after that first initial attack on her person he'd rushed right to her side in her time of need. But the truth was that he'd hesitated at first. Ruby was a independent woman, after all, and seemed able to handle the situation at first. And somehow he knew that if he _had_ jumped into the fray at that moment that he would have been more likely to bungle something up than help, and would have gotten hurt in the process. But the minute the bitter beekeeper had opened his mouth he'd reacted.

Ruby was a lady. And that man was a cretin.

The normally civil, polite therapist had disappeared in an instant, shoving his way through the throng of zombie-like spectators. His pulse had drummed in his throat as he'd kept the man's raised bottle in line of sight at all times, about to draw Ruby away in echo of Jim's example. Then Harold had begun his curses, reeking from liquor and the fumes of rejection and jealousy left to fester.

Archie had seen red.

His mind replayed the moment, again and again, in which his best friend, a woman brimming with confidence and enthusiasm, had fallen away as if struck. She'd backed into a shell of herself, her lovely features crumbling in an instant and shoulders above her ears.

Raw protectiveness had entered into his system to match the rage he was feeling, and instinctively he'd thrown a punch. He couldn't remember what he'd said at the time, but he could distinctly recall the moment in which his knuckles had connected with Waxly's bulbous nose. Only some mock-sparring with Marco in the past had saved him from breaking anything, digit-wise, but he'd immediately known that his knuckles would be bruised in the morning.

And 'Harry' would have a permanent break. Perched on his face like the vulture he was, so that everyone would forever see and remember what he'd done to Ruby Lucas.

The victory had been very short lived. Because Ruby was still hurt, even if it was nothing external. He'd led her outside and as soon as there were no prying glances had pulled her into his arms.

Archie had held her as she cried. Humming to the distant music as he recalled that thrumming of any kind soothed him—whether car or cricket or whining dog—and hoping that it might do the same for her. Instinct had led him to kiss her hair, gentle brushes that lent him the scent of sweet raspberries and strawberries. He had rocked Ruby, both like a child and like a woman, remembering his hesitant promise to dance with her. It was a rain check he was sure to cash in on now, only hopefully under more happy circumstances. And as he'd held her something had changed within him.

He'd wondered then what it would be like to hold her forever.

Archie had entered the bar that night with uncertainty nipping at his heels but had left it a changed man. He'd known then and there that he never wanted to see such sorrow on her face again; such horror at the world and its view of her, of what she'd done. He would do anything to keep it back, and to protect her from the dark.

Sure, there were times in which he wasn't the most stellar example of his gender—bending under pressure, manipulated into situations he didn't want to be in. They were regretful parts of his past, involving both action and inaction. But he did not regret defending Ruby, and would do it over again a hundred times more.

He would willingly defend her for the rest of her life.

But it was never as simple as that.

Certainly, he'd decided on his course and was going to remain unchanging in its direction, no matter how long it took. But the fiasco at The Sleeping Giant was a setback. And her insistence that she set up an appointment with him was most certainly a sign of it.

Archie sighed and scrubbed at his hair, running a hand over features and rubbing at eyes as worry and anxiety mounted. In the past any time Ruby had had a problem she'd come to him as a friend rather than in any professional light. So to have this change in habits was worrisome.

He knew what she wanted to talk about. But would he be able to handle it? To give her the support and adoration she needed to heal? And as a Psychiatrist he was expected to be at his most distantly respectful—could he manage the façade when really all he wanted to do was take her in his arms again?

A knock on his door interrupted Archie's sudden desire to sigh and he straightened with electric suddenness. His heartbeat was accelerating so loud he almost wondered if Ruby could hear it—through walls and barriers and the solid quiet. He cleared his throat, fixed his tie, and twitched an item or two around the office in his leisurely walk to the entryway. Gifting him with enough time to calm his breathing and tightly wound nerves.

Finally he found the bravery to open the door.

~/~/~

Ruby knew that she didn't look her best. 'Tired' was a kind word for it, and today she met the description to a 'T'. Truthfully, she'd spent the last few days thinking, between work and, well, work, amongst some brooding and the devouring of countless buckets of ice cream. Which had resulted in few answers and a smattering of questions. Or re-evaluations as it were.

The first was that Kathryn was right. She needed to 'man up,' so to speak, and tell Archie how she felt.

The second was that she never wanted to be seen as a 'loose woman' again.

Ironically, the latter was easier than the former. At this point she'd had already been on the right track, changing her habits and clothing choices to become more 'ladylike' for Archie. But the process of wooing the man she adored had made more of an effect on her than a lifetime of Granny's nagging. She was where she was meant to be, she'd met the mark, and that sneaky old woman had known that this was her destination from the start. Because Ruby without drive and purpose was a petulant, uncooperative Ruby. And Archie wasn't going to fall for the mere image of a lady—he needed to fall for an actual one to stay hooked.

Granny had lovingly tricked her and Ruby had sought out the psychiatrist only to find herself instead.

Learning to care more about her appearance and how she was seen by others had led to a concern for her own wellbeing, cementing a certain self-assurance she hadn't possessed before. For in the process of romancing the doctor this pattern of behavior had became habit and then habit had become instinct. She'd noted what had previously been determined as 'controllable' character traits and had found that she could guide them, provided that her first 'push' was the incentive of bettering herself for Archie. And the rest was just her body and mind reacting instinctively, as though all she was doing was returning to a previous self all along.

One example, Ruby had pondered just the night before, was in her actions. She didn't flirt with men when Archie was around, to show that she was only interested in his attention when he was there. But not flirting when Archie was around had turned into also not flirting when Archie _wasn't _around. And then _only _wanting to flirt with Archie. It hadn't helped her with her tips at work, but it had helped her with the amount of respect she received.

For instance, recently Leroy had told off Dr. Whale when he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, just a scant day before the incident at The Sleeping Giant. She'd felt surprised and pleased, as though discovering that she had a hidden older brother watching out for her.

Her appearance was the same. She'd chosen clothes under her grandmother's direction, aiming for Dr. Hopper's attention and admiration. And then had realized that others treated her more like a _person_ and less like an _object_ when she continued to dress that way. Respected men and women talked to her instead of shooing their impressionable children out of her path, men looked her in the eye instead of down her shirt or at her legs, and the nuns were cheerful and chatty with her at the checkout counter.

After that influx of positive responses the changes had become comfortable against her skin; she felt out of sorts without the new duds.

And naturally a changed appearance led to the expectation of maturity in her actions, especially after Granny's announcement that she would inherit the two businesses. She wanted to be taken seriously, so she conversed and acted seriously. It as though she was settling into a pair of heels that had previously been two sizes too big, but now fit perfectly. Stiletto and all.

Ruby could remember a story that she'd heard someone tell once before. It had been about a monster that wanted a woman to love him, like some warped Beauty and the Beast retelling. He'd worn a pleasing mask and had only revealed his good side to her. But his desire to get her attention had led to habit which had led to a permanent character trait. But he was still a monster underneath. Until the moment in which the mask was removed, when it was revealed that his appearance was the same on the inside as on the out; he'd simply willed himself into being good. She wondered if it was like that.

The old Ruby turning into a new Ruby that was more self contained and more thoughtful. It wasn't that she was a different person, per se, just more reflective when it came to her thoughts. She cared about others over herself, her first concern at the bar involving Kathryn's protection, and she noticed things more when she was focusing on own problems less, such as Ava's need for new clothes. If the old Ruby was a caterpillar then the new Ruby was definitely a butterfly; a different creature, but still the same.

And the new Ruby was determined to prevent what had happened those few nights ago from ever happening again.

First, she'd forgiven the bystanders at The Sleeping Giant. They'd been as shocked as she had been, true, and no one standing up for her _had_ been painful. But holding a grudge against an uncountable group of people didn't hurt anyone but herself—she had no specific individual to demand amends from, and it was a short path toward endless anger. The Incredible Hulk she was not.

Besides, she wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, if only to prove them wrong about her and Archie right in the same go. There's always room for forgiveness, just like there's always room for truth.

Second, she wasn't going to bounce from guy to guy anymore. She was going to attach herself to one guy—_her_ guy. And that was it. Because there's no need to speculate about the doings of the town flirt when she's firmly wrapped a little golden ring around the one man whose loyalty and integrity were never questioned.

It was a win-win situation, and an end result which resulted in Ruby changing her name to Mrs. Hopper.

She just hoped that he was willing to see the situation the same way.

Which is what had led her here, to his office. It was the one place where she could get him to remain stationary, never interrupting, as he was paid to simply _listen_ to what she had to say. And if that didn't work, she was still up for tying him down and kissing the daylights out of him.

The thought turned her cheeks and neck a pale pink, which she hoped would fade before the psychiatrist opened up his door.

~/~/~

She looked…tired. Like she'd been doing a lot of thinking and had found some mixed results. Dressed simply in jeans, a T-shirt, and an open flannel button-up on top she looked the most 'normal' that he'd seen in a long while. The veritable girl next door. Her hair was down, looking more chestnut than auburn today, and the waitress wore no makeup except some jewel-toned lip gloss.

He thought that she looked beautiful.

"Hey, Archie," her eyes were soft and smile was small as the waitress stood outside in the open hallway. Her hands were in pockets, casual, while his own reaction was soothing and automatic—a gentle tug of his lips and the most affectionate gaze he could manage.

"Hi Ruby. How are you doing?"

"I'm…" she seemed hesitant a moment before slowly nodding, "I'm doing okay, Archie. Thanks for asking."

He smiled at this—it bode well for her emotional wellbeing, post-fiasco. He opened his door wider to welcome her in, "you wanted to talk?"

Ruby nodded, "actually…yeah. About a few things."

"Come right on in, then."

~/~/~

It was literally the opening she needed, yet still Ruby hesitated. After all, despite her mental promise to herself (and verbal one to Kathryn), this was quite a step. If she put into action what she'd been planning—a bout of complete honesty—then her walls would be stripped bare for him to see, emotions as raw as an exposed nerve. It could possibly change their friendship forever, should she fail, and could spell disaster for them both and heartbreak specifically for her.

Still, no one got anywhere by giving into fear. Ruby was used to grabbing life by the horns and this was no different. Merely another challenge to hurdle on the way to her happiness—_their_ happiness, because she was completely certain that she could make him very, _very_ happy—and another mountain to climb. And should things turn out well then the rewards would be doubly sweet.

Like Granny's chocolate chip cookies. It was worth keeping her fingers out of the sugary dough for the sake of the mouth watering end results.

Smiling slightly at the thought of Archibald Hopper being compared to a batch of baked goods, the brunette mused that maybe it wasn't such a farfetched analogy. After all, they were sweet and so was he. They made her think about home and safety and love, leaving her feeling continually warm inside. He was all that and more, and with a sweet tooth like hers it was a temptation she couldn't resist.

The thought stretched her mouth into a wide grin and Ruby could see him blink in surprise. He'd obviously been expecting something a little more serious, particularly after recent events. But she really couldn't control it—the feeling was a natural byproduct of just thinking about him, resulting in a kind of joy she couldn't contain. And his reaction to her was to…to blush? Startling a bit, her eyes widened as she took in the blotchy vermilion that stretched from ear to neck to nose on his blessedly pasty skin.

It was a schoolboy's blush, shy around the edges, and spoke of first-discovered attraction as his eyes dodged anywhere but her direction, the good doctor awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. She recognized the look in a heartbeat, having viewed it on many a paramour. But to see it on her dear, oblivious Dr. Hopper was like the sky opening up and manna falling from the heavens.

Was this really the reaction she elicited after simply _smiling at him?_ Had that evening at The Sleeping Giant really affected him _that_ much? What exactly had changed?

Willing to test her new theory out, the young woman nodded to him in appreciation before sidling past. But Ruby made certain to 'accidentally' sweep against him the process, her shoulder brushing solidly across the expanse of his chest.

Archie's breath hitched and the hand gripping the entryway clenched in a spasm, white spots appearing round his knuckles.

Ruby's large green eyes widened in surprise as she made sudden but needed mental recalculations. Maybe this wasn't going to be as hard as she had thought…especially if he was actually attracted to her, too.

With a newfound bounce in her step, she continued on into the middle of the room. He closed the office door, motioning to the long black couch so that she could take a seat. But instead the waitress made a split decision, accepting his orange armchair instead. It smelled like him, she immediately found, a grassy clean scent like Irish Spring soap coming off of the threads as she curled up into a ball. The man blinked at the move, something evaluating hidden in the depths of his pale blue eyes. But he accepted the shift readily enough, setting his clipboard beside him on what should have been her seat.

Instead it looked like Archie was the one being questioned; on the spot and slightly uneasy.

The long-limbed ingénue dragged her sunset throne a few creeping steps closer, their knees just barely brushing, and she could see him stiffen up once before slowly relaxing, with a discreet little cough.

She took advantage of those precious moments in order to take in her surroundings.

Hopper's office was a haven of calming forest tones, she noticed first. As though he'd welcomed their surrounding woods inside, complete with small potted plants. But not before first laying down some orderly ground rules. There were Black Eyed Susan yellows and olive greens, rusty woods and brassy handles on things.

Everything looked old and well-used; well-loved, especially. From his bookshelves guarding the broad expanse of his window to the old dial-up telephone on an antique roll top desk. A similar side table was littered with interesting curios and science toys. She could almost imagine Henry, or really any other patient, absentmindedly answering questions while fiddling with the things.

Tasteful black and white photographs maintained their positions on the wall with quiet serenity, assured of their artistic placement, while a plastic replica of a famous marble bust peered out coolly into space. The clock moved_ almost_ in silence, the quiet tick of seconds disappearing reminding her of crickets in the summer. Or maybe the tap of an umbrella on the sidewalk.

The furniture, excluding the throne she'd commandeered, was dark and masculine but understated. Emphasizing the fact that underneath his sweet-tempered congeniality he was, above all else, still a man.

Ruby shivered at the thought and allowed her eyes to trace onward to Archie himself. If she appeared tired, then he definitely seemed tense. As though waiting for her to break down or attack him or something. He was anticipating a situation in which they were not friends, she realized, but professionals. It was a different one than any they'd been in previously, and both of them would be walking on tightropes before they found themselves a comfortable middle ground.

~/~/~

Clearing his throat as soon as they had settled, Archie called upon his traditional outline for structure. He needed to set some rules in place, a frame within which they could work. First, legalities, then open-ended questioning, followed by gentle suggestions for change.

With of a few of his patients, those more belligerent or too shy to give him information at first, he held off on instruction until the second or third session. Allowing them to talk their issues out first, until they became comfortable enough to take what he had to say at face value.

He wasn't sure which of the two categories Ruby might fall into. In the past he might have said the latter, especially while tiptoeing through her issues with her grandmother and with her overall emotional frustration. But she'd changed enough recently that that might no longer be a barrier. Certainly she'd been getting along better with her closest relation, and her continuous dissatisfaction had started settling down recently, now that he really thought about it. Maybe it had something to do with inheriting the two businesses from Granny?

Archie shook those ponderings away, intent on the moment at hand.

"Before we begin, I have some general questions for you, Ruby," his gaze flickered to hers before dodging away, "first, I need to know how you will be paying for your session. I know that in the past we've had discussions…as friends…" the man hesitated, unsure how to continue. After all, what was the best manner to tell a friend that you needed to be paid in order to listen to them?

She bobbed her head in assent, "it's no problem, Archie. I figured as much. Um, I was thinking about paying with a check after. Is that okay?"

He nodded, relieved, "yes, that's fine. But, um, as a note, since this is your first consultation I regularly provide a 'First Visit Discount.' So it s-shouldn't be t-too bad."

"Thanks, Archie," Ruby smiled, lips widening on one side.

The redhead coughed, ignoring the heat that was rushing to his cheeks. He was normally _just fine_ in her presence, so why the sudden embarrassment? True, he _had _decided that he wanted Ruby in his life, permanently, but…

He felt like a blasted schoolboy.

"No problem. S-so, do you have any history of mental illness?"

"Nope," she smirked, folding her hands together, "although I do have a history of mental absentmindedness."

The psychiatrist coughed out a laugh, "okay. And are you taking any medications right now?"

"No."

"Any previous episodes of uncharacteristic behavior?"

"I don't think so," she carefully remarked, "but I'll let you be the judge of that."

"Alrighty," he hesitated a moment, fiddling with his glasses, before clearing his throat in an attempt at some professionalism, "and one last thing before we begin. I just want to clarify that you can talk about anything within these four walls. Anything, really. I believe strongly in doctor-patient confidentiality, so feel free to speak on any subject without worry about it going anywhere."

Her expression blanked as if surprised, and he could see something flicker past the windows of her eyes like he'd just handed her the key to something. But the open, re-evaluating look disappeared in the instant she began nodding, back to her previous calm appearance.

"Thank you, 'Dr. Hopper.'"

He smiled slightly, "you're welcome, 'Miss Lucas.'"

The two of them merely looked at one another for a few moments, but as those moments started to stretch out Archie coughed and spoke.

"Let's begin. You mentioned that there were a few things you wanted to cover. Which would you like to discuss first?"

"Can we talk about…" the brunette winced, "Harold? I mean, we might as well get the conversation over with."

Archie blinked in surprise, then swallowed as he tried to push back his still-lingering anger. If she wanted to approach that first, then he was fine with it. But it would do no good for her to see him upset, "s-sure, Ruby. Go ahead."

Her breath left her in a whoosh, and the young woman nodded again. This time firmly, only once, before looking Archie in the eye, "I'm guessing that you're wondering how I'm doing after that whole," she searched for an apt description but instead ended with a flat, "'Situation.'"

The words were said with air quotes as she attempted to distance herself from the memory.

His head bobbed in assent, "well, y-yes. I-I had worried—_wondered_ how you were doing."

Ruby bit her lip shyly, clasping her hands together at the slipup, "thank you, Archie. And it's like what I said earlier—I'm really doing okay. A little tired, but okay. Still, he—what happened has made me think about a lot of things and I've decided that," she paused before plunging on, "that I never want to be seen like that again. So I'm going to forgive him. And then I'm going to change."

"F-forgive him, Ruby?" the psychiatrist was honestly surprised. While in most situations he would advise this exact course of action, somehow he didn't want to this time.

"Yes," she rebounded firmly, "because that's the right thing to do. It's what Kathryn would do, and it's what you would do."

Blue eyes widened behind thick spectacles, "wh-what I would do?"

"Exactly," Ruby chirped, "because if there's anything I've learned from you it's that it's never too late to do the right thing."

~/~/~

He swallowed the look that said that if it had been him, forgiveness was not what he would have bestowed up on the man.

Ruby resisted the urge to cup his cheeks with both hands and kiss him until he was breathless. She really did adore the man; he was absolutely delectable when trying to be protective.

"I'm hurt, I admit, by what he said. But he wasn't the only one that was thinking it. I mean, you saw how no one jumped in to defend me."

"It was a bit like watching a train wreck," he stated, before blushing again as he realized just how that had sounded, "I mean, I'm sure that others wanted to act," he hastened to assure, eyes jumping from her to random objects and back again.

"Thanks, Archie," Ruby murmured wryly.

"Ah, what I meant was that…s-sometimes people just…don't know how to take the first step," his protestations were cut off abruptly as Ruby stretched forward to lay her hand on his knee, caressingly. If anything his flush went from a flickering flame to a full-fledged wildfire.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. I get it."

The therapist reached up to remove his glasses anyway, cleaning them with a small cloth from his pocket rather than making eye contact, "everyone was frozen. Even me. I-I…"

"You were wonderful," she whispered, causing him to look up in the process of replacing his seeing apparatus, "you were kind and gentle…except for when you had to be strong. And then you were my knight in shining armor, defending the right and saving the damsel. A_ real_ _gentleman._ You rescued me that night, you really did, Archie. You gave me the ability to break through my walls and just…be myself, instead of burying the hurt. You let me purge that emotion. I could express all my…my anxiety and my sadness and I knew that you wouldn't judge me for crying. No expectations. Because I knew that…despite what he'd said, someone still cared about me. Thank you, Archibald Hopper."

The words fell from her lips as though they were written in cursive. And across from her the red-haired mentor just peered at her through the edge of his glasses, teeth clicked closed and lips slightly ajar as though bracing for something. Her hand still rested on his knee, she realized, and pondered whether or not to retain it there. But the uncomfortable pull on her back from such a pose was enough of a deterrent that she decided to take it away. There would be more time for that later.

"But Archie, what Harold said…he was right."

He pulled back as if struck. And when he next tried to speak he had to clear his voice twice before anything came out, "w-what, what do you mean? How could you think such a thing?"

She chewed the inside of her mouth a moment, "Arch. I've decided that I have to face up to my mistakes. Because the truth is, he was right and Granny was right. In the past I've been stupid and impulsive and have been elbow deep in bad decisions. I've flirted with danger and I've ruined my own reputation."

"Why do you feel the need to tell me this, Ruby?" Archie asked, fingers steepled together near his face. She wasn't sure if it was meant to hide his expression or not, but she could clearly see the denial in his eyes anyway. The man's emotions practically glowed from his eyes, she mused, it was a real wonder that he was able to hide his opinions from his patients. Or maybe it was just her—maybe she was the only one that could see it?

"Because out of everyone, you deserve my honesty," she stated, expression open. And for a second the psychiatrist felt her green eyes peer directly into his soul. But the moment ended as she looked away, the waterfall of her hair flicking as Ruby's head turned, "and because I want to change."

~/~/~

"I've been thinking a lot the past few days," The gorgeous woman in front of him fiddled with a long piece of her hair, twirling it absently as though it conveyed the most important secrets in the universe, "and you know what you said about it being hard taking that first step? You're right. Change is always hardest the first time around. When you know that you don't want to do something any more. That you want to be someone else, but you just don't know how. And when something keeps holding you back."

She turned to face him, earnestly, holding his gaze as she tried to convey some important message to him that he just wasn't getting, "but I know who I want to be, now._ Where_ I want to be."

His lungs froze as her words sent a wave of déjà vu over him. He could remember the exact moment in his childhood when he'd realized that he didn't want his circumstances to determine whom he was. This, _this_ was that moment for Ruby. But he couldn't interrupt. Not…not now. Not when she was baring her heart to him.

"But the thing about change is that…it only happens when you make it happen. When you have a reason to act. My reason is myself," she clasped her hands together, solemn and serious as she reflected out loud on the merits of one's own soul, "I want to be a better person…like Kathryn—a golden friend, and forgiving and loving and..." her voice cracked slightly as past trauma unearthed itself for a moment. He knew that they should have talked then, back when Kathryn's first disappearance was ruled a murder. But he wasn't sure just how much the waitress wanted to reveal in one session.

"And I'm so _glad_ because if she wasn't then I never would have had the chance to get to know her. To learn that it was possible to forgive others and forgive myself. Plus Granny, who always knows what to do and what to say, and Emma who can handle the things that _I just can't_. I want to be better, Archie," she reached out to clasp his hand for a moment before she seemed to realize what she had done, withdrawing it and sitting back. Her expression became shy and thoughtful once again, "and," the rarely-hesitant Ruby Lucas drew in a hefty breath, the potential weight of her words filling the air, "I think that I've found someone else that gives me a reason for it, too."

Time seemed to stop for Archibald Hopper.

So it was true. Ruby _did_ care about someone. But…what if Jim had been wrong? Doubt crept its way into his heart even as the woman before him practically was leaning into his lap. But he didn't see that, his mind turned inward as a metaphorical mirror was placed before him.

After all, he was only a man. A regular, uninteresting, unassuming man. His features weren't striking compared to others in their little town, his adventures and wit didn't attract. He had that dreadful stutter and receding hair and for heaven's sake he was older than he liked to think about.

And she was Ruby. The most beautiful woman he would ever know. He'd known that the moment he'd met her. And though he couldn't remember the event—they'd woven themselves in and out of each other's lives for too long—he recalled the impression. Of the world tilting on its axis to include a brilliant, exquisite young woman in his life, who loved despite all the sorrows she'd been burdened with. Losing most of her family to untimely deaths, placed into a situation where there was little room for growth.

She was like a wild rose growing in captivity, raw and thorn-covered and enduring. And he was nothing but an insect compared to her.

Archie's eyes dodged back up as she continued speaking, a familiar melancholy weighing down upon his chest.

"He's the only one that's ever made me feel…cared about," Ruby murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. And her ivory cheeks even seemed to pick up a hint of the red from her highlights, subtle in the shadow of her ducked head.

The psychiatrist swallowed and nodded, trying his best not to let himself dwell on the doubt enveloping him. His heart was thumping wildly, and he wished desperately that she wouldn't be able to hear it. Especially if she was really talking about someone else. But Ruby only rambled sweetly on, eyes taking a distant, soft expression as she looked at her crossed ankles.

"He makes me want to be a better person—for him. And for me, too. I don't need to prove anything to him," she stopped and swallowed as she looked him straight in the eye, "I think…I think that I want to marry him."

"Really?" Archie croaked out, grip ready to break the pen in his hand, "are you sure that you w-want that?"

She frowned, confused, "of course I do. I love him."

"I'm just saying that you might want to think things through before…taking…any major…steps…" his words faltered as he clenched his clipboard tight. It looked like both of his office supplies were going to gain a deathly fate that day.

Ruby's features dropped with something like surprise, then dismay and confusion. Then realization seemed to light her eyes, as the psychiatrist continued rambling on and on. Determination was followed by action as she was soon shoving herself off the couch. And then Ruby was abruptly kneeling in front of him, earnestly, so that his words stuttered to a stop, mouth opening and closing much like a goldfish. But she wouldn't let him continue.

"Archibald Hopper," she said, grabbing both his hands in hers, so that they were nearly face to face, her furrow meeting his anxiously creased forehead, "whatever you're thinking right now—stop it. Geeze, Louise, you still don't get it, do you?"

He opened his mouth to start again, but she shook her head.

Ruby's palm lifted to rest against his cheek, silencing him, "Archie, it's you."

~/~/~

Then she stood enough to lean forward and press her mouth to his. Softly, carefully. This wasn't like any of her passionate kisses in the past, shared with other men whose names she couldn't remember and faces she only vaguely recalled. This was a promise in the form of a kiss, lips caressing the softness found in this man she adored. He remained unmoving for a moment, frozen in his denial, but like snow on a summer's day began to thaw the tiniest bit, pressing back gently.

She took that as a sign and pressed closer still, turning her mouth to the side and moving her hand from Archie's cheek to his hair, fingers tangled in the locks she found there. The pressure from his side of the interaction stuttered a moment before settling, and Ruby couldn't help her grin against his mouth.

The brunette wondered absently just how many relationships he'd been in and how they were going to traverse this one before she began pulling away to sit in a crouch. She very, very much wanted to marry this man, but was willing to take it slow if need be. They had all the time in the world, provided he didn't reject her. A thought which was slowly starting to eat at her brain like the worst of all zombie movies.

For she had just kissed Archie Hopper. She had just kissed ARCHIE HOPPER. And he still wasn't responding yet.

The redhead continued to stare forward, eyebrows rising by the minute. And nervously Ruby bit her lower lip, frowning anxiously. But she needn't have worried as his eyes zoomed in on the movement, examining the pink bruise he'd caused there with a look that was on the verge of being hungry.

"It…it's me?" the psychiatrist repeated, almost disbelievingly, never looking away. Then, more loudly, as a cheek-breaking grin created a sea of wrinkles around his mouth and the corner of his eyes. The man beamed at Ruby as he picked up her hands so that they were clasped, just once, in his hands, "it's me!"

Removing her limbs to rise fully, Ruby nudged him sidewise so that he was learning entirely against the back of the curved couch. Only when he was done did she tuck herself against his side, lifting his stationary left arm up and over to rest on her shoulders as she nudged her head underneath his chin. Then stating, "of course it's you. Who else would it be?"

His answer was immediate, as though he'd been thinking about it for some time, "A-August Booth o-or Doctor W-Whale or someone more interesting."

Ruby snorted in a distinctly unladylike manner, "August treats me like a little sister. I wouldn't touch Whale with a ten foot pole. And I happen to find you _very_ interesting."

She wrapped her arms around his waist to prove this point, palm flat against his sweatervest as she heared the rapid beat of his pulse against her ear. But it never fully calmed. Not while she was attached flush against his side, particularly when her ankle twined around his.

~/~/~

She loved him. She really, truly loved him. Jim had been right. The _terrible trio_ had been right. He had what he hadn't known he'd wanted or needed.

Now what was he going to do?

Ruby had attached herself temptingly to his side, long limbs a loving chain around his chest. But all he could do was sit there, frozen. His body was telling him one thing, to hold tight to this glorious woman. But his heart knew that it had been a very long time since he'd dated, much less felt the inklings of anything like love. After that night at The Sleeping Giant he'd tasted what he wanted, but he had thought that there would be a chance to go slow on his own terms, to take tentative steps. The lovely lady in his arms had definitely upped the timeline, but it looked like they had the same destination in mind.

She was set on the idea, and he'd already decided on his course: he wanted Ruby, heart and soul. Wanted to protect her and care for her and see her holding his child…

Oh, heavens. _Children_. Immediately what came to mind was a small boy and girl, curly-topped and either red-haired or a brunette like her. Freckles, he imagined, and bright eyes. Something swelled within his chest, a desire for all that and more, as he gazed into the future with his mind's eye.

It held him solid, unmoving. And Ruby took it as meaning something else, beginning to withdraw.

"Archie," she pulled her head back so that she could face him, hesitant, "I'm sorry if…if you don't feel…if it's such a shock…"

His arms immediately went around her, and with it came the scent of her shampoo and something that was substantially hers and hers alone. A wildness, a gentleness, the soothing scent of the forest at their door and a fire in the hearth.

"I actually overhead…something that made me wonder."

Her head jerked upward, eyebrows clashing, "what?"

Archie smiled shyly, "just…rumors. That there might be a reason for Harold's jealousy."

The waitress gaped at him in incredulity before a smile itched the corners of her mouth, "you sly little truth-teller."

"I didn't lie," he hastened to assure, shaking his head, "I d-didn't _say_ anything."

"Sins of omission, blah blah blah," Ruby commented back. But it was with a smile. But only until he spoke again.

"Y-you know…if this s-session goes any longer I'm going to have to charge you at f-full price."

Then she whacked his shoulder. Hard. Before kissing the spot as he hissed in pain.

"Me being in love with you doesn't change the fact that you're my best friend."

Archie nodded through the pain of yet another hurt. But a well-deserved one. And through it he was reminded again-she loved him, "I-I know."

Boy, did he know. He was attracted to his wonderful, intelligent, loving best friend. With truly fantastic legs.

"You make me feel beautiful, you know," she said, seemingly reading his thoughts, "You always have. And…" she hesitated for a breath, words stuttering out, "like I'm…w-worth something."

He picked up her closest hand and placed it directly over his heart, becoming closer to him as she listened via touch. The sound finally settled into a gentle beat and it was then that she knew he had accepted the contact. It was as clear as anything he could have said verbally, for she knew him.

Turning her face into his collar, Ruby ran a hand up the plane of his chest to where shoulder met neck, leaving a shiver in her wake. She was careful of his still-injured hand, and he was careful that she didn't slip and fall off of the couch.

But there was one thing that he had to ask before…well, before anything.

"Ruby…I'm somewhat…still becoming accustomed to the idea. I only found out a few days ago," he said with a helpless raise of his brows, "so y-you have to promise me that you'll give me some time to catch up with the idea, okay. Please?" he hated to do it, but it had to be said.

She nodded, a tad sadly, "I understand."

It was enough for now.

~/~/~

They stood there at his door, merely holding hands as his grip turned from a handshake into something more. But neither one of them were quite there yet. Not yet, but soon. So Ruby smiled and disentangled their fingers.

But when Archie sighed at this loss, her hands changed directions to settle around his shoulders, drawing him into a hug with her entire weight leaning into him as she closed her eyes. The psychiatrist froze for a moment before molding to her, arms wrapping her form firmly and permanently.

Ruby's head was tucked into the nook between his shoulder and neck and did her best to just breathe the moment in; breathe in his scent and his comforting presence. At his back one of her hands had stretched out to run back and forth, soothing knots of worry and stress between his shoulder blades through layers of tweed and twill.

It was a simple moving moment of serenity and comfort, the two of them coming to some sort of inevitable certainty in the wake of her frank appraisal. Ruby felt more loved and cherished with Archie than with anyone else. He cared about her, he listened to her, and he respected her. Just knowing him made her want to be better. As for him, she knew that he appreciated her friendship and affection at the very least. And he was also attracted to her, that much she knew, but was too gentlemanly to ever take advantage of that fact.

The fact of the matter was that Archie made her feel loved. And she wanted him to feel the same way. She, the town flirt and social butterfly, was in love with a man named Archibald Hopper, town psychiatrist. Former fairytale 'Conscience,' according to Henry. It seemed only fitting that 'Jiminy Cricket' was the one inspiring her to be a better person.

"Oh, Archie," Ruby whispered softly as she unconsciously wound her fingers through his curly hair. Not realizing that she'd said it out loud until his hands tightened on her waist.

"Yes, Ruby?" his breath had hitched slightly at her actions, but there was still a flowing tranquility to his words, as though their air of comfort and closeness hadn't been disturbed yet.

She shook her head slightly and could feel strands of her hair snag slightly on the near-invisible stubble upon his cheeks. Side effect of being a redhead, she guessed, "nothing, I just…" Ruby drew back, arms still around him as they simply looked at one another face to face. Really looking and examining one another as though for the first time. She released his curls to trace the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, created by what could only be termed as two lifetimes of optimism, "you are a _very_ good man."

Archie's returning smile was affectionate, even loving. But she couldn't push him into such a role yet, even within her own mind. Just because she'd come to adore the man didn't mean that he felt the same. Yet. They would be working on it.

"And you," he released his grip slightly to wind a finger around a long strand of hair, tugging it teasingly, "are a very good woman. A very patient woman."

"Are we talking about the same person here?" she asked, teasingly.

"I'm not seeing anyone else," the words were pert upon his lips, and he flushed as soon as the double-meaning sunk in. But that only made Ruby smile more.

"Coincidentally, neither am I," she answered with a sly grin, running a finger across the smile lines around his mouth. But before the moment could become any more heated, she nodded firmly and took a step back until the circle of their arms was loose and easy. She patted his chest affectionately, then pulled herself up just one more time to press a soft kiss to his cheek before drawing away, "you know where to find me, Archibald Hopper."

He drew in another full gulp of air and nodded, pupils dilated but his heartbeat starting to settle down after the surprising turn, "I know."

Her smile was tremulous, "and I'm willing to wait."

Archie's features softened, and without thinking about it he pulled her hand closer to plant a soft kiss on the top of it. Chivalrously , courteously. As though she was the most precious thing in the world. Bent in half, he glanced up to share with her a significant look, "I know. Have a good day, Ruby."

Her heartbeat got lost somewhere in her throat, so she could only nod. And after what seemed like eternity his grip fell away.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Ruby," he promised, firmly. His brows flickering for a second as he gazed at her with what seemed to be determination.

"I'll hold you to that."

And with their last parting remarks she left, holding the encounter close to her heart as she went through the rest of her day off. Cleaning and writing and reading and reliving every moment of their hour-long session.

The only thing that was unfortunately missed was the knowledge of Henry's greeting to the man, upon arriving for his own appointment.

"Archie…why does your mouth look red?"

~/~/~

AN: _"A little less conversation, a little more action please." –Elvis Presley_

"_By golly, she was going to make him see even if she had to tie him down and kiss him until he was senseless." –Chapter 10._

"_You can talk?!"-'James' "Yeah. And you can listen."-Jiminy (as a cricket)  
_

HOLY FREAKING 17.3 TYPED PAGES, BATMAN! D: All filled with emotions and anxiety and _issues_. And you wondered why this took me so long. Yeesh.

(Well, plus there was that whole 'my family visiting twice' thing and college finals. O_O! And, you know, distracting DarcyXLoki fanfiction. That one I feel guilty about…)

I think that I actually wrote a decent portion of this chapter oooh, during chapter five or six? It just came to me in this big whoosh of inspiration and I had no choice but to write it down. Now I'm really happy that I did—otherwise the ending would have been a vague approximation of what I originally planned. :) Although working together the two sections was a bit of a struggle. Especially as I had to re-write the silly thing about two and half times. _ If the change in perspective between the two characters was jarring, I apologize. There was just…_so much to deal with_. –dies-

On a side note, I'm a total nerd. I really am. :D Which leads me to mention four things:

1. I don't normally make plugs regarding my work, but you should check out my Deviantart page. (Which is linked through my profile). Because I drew some RedXCricket. Pictures which get awful lonely, as I'm not sure if any of the fans on here know of their existence. –laughs-

2. Once Upon a Time has a facebook page, and sometimes they reveal spoilers for season two. Hint hint.

3. Once Upon a Time _also_ has a Twitter account, as do most of the main actors. Including, you guessed it, Raphael Sbarge (Archie) and Meghan Ory (Ruby). They sometimes mention interviews and hints as well. Plus the OUAT main account recently posted a picture from behind the scenes of the new season, starting September 30th. An image which has both Archie and Ruby in it. I squeed. I really did. XD Additionally, it's a great reference photo. :D

4. Lastly, if you haven't seen the _hilarious_ parody dating website advertisement, "Singlebrooke", made by the creators of OUAT, you totally should (it's on Youtube). And make sure to watch it twice. Once to listen to what they're saying, and the second time to read the comments on the side regarding each character's biographies. ;) You won't regret it. I laughed my way through.


	13. AcCenTchuAte the Positive

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Chapter 13: Ac-Cen-Tchu-Ate the Positive

~/~/~

Deft hands locked the diner's front door with a firm tug, forcing past the rusty little stick which lingered despite frequent application of WD40. Her grandmother waited patiently behind her, as accustomed to the temperamental thing as Ruby was.

Instead of remaining idle, however, the older woman was busy tucking wayward chairs in their places amongst the courtyard, and folding up their portable sign. Sunday mornings were slow, as the townspeople of Storybrooke found reasons to sleep in or visit church with the local nuns. Meaning that they were only open for a short time—the rest of the day was devoted to themselves.

In the past they hadn't taken advantage of these free moments; each woman typically went their own way, one to have fun and one to hold down the fort until the waitress's return. But now that they were on good terms the two of them had taken to sharing long walks together, chatting about the Diner and Bed and Breakfast. Or really any other topic which came to mind.

Today's conversation was a tad different, however, as Mrs. Lucas picked it back up from where they'd dropped it earlier.

"So…you never told me. How did it go with Archie?" Granny asked with wide, curious eyes. She'd been dying to know since yesterday, Ruby could tell, but had held off until her granddaughter was willing to talk. Which had lasted about twenty-four hours.

"It went," the young brunette fished for words, pulling her leopard print wrap tight around her shoulders, "better than expected. Mostly I just talked and he listened."

"_And?_" the older woman asked pointedly.

She rolled her eyes, smiling, "and I might have kissed him."

"YES!" Granny pumped the air in an uncharacteristic manner, doing a short little dance before settling down, "I was hoping that that might happen!"

"_Granny!_" Ruby admonished, flushing as scarlet as her highlights. She nodded at one of the bakers from across the street as they exited the confines of the Diner's outer borders, crossing her fingers that the man hadn't seen or heard her parental figure's display.

"What? My love life isn't going anywhere," she stated baldly, but hesitated afterward in a way that made Ruby wonder, "so I might as well live vicariously through you."

The long-limbed beauty just sighed. It had taken a while to become accustomed to the idea of her grandmother as an ally instead of an enemy. But she wasn't quite sure if she could handle her elderly relation falling within the 'friend' category yet. They weren't friends—they were mother-daughter figures. The idea of it was just too…weird. But Granny didn't seem to notice any such problems.

"What else happened?" Mrs. Lucas asked eagerly, practically skipping despite her sensible pumps.

"Not much. We talked about Harold," Granny growled out her irritation, sounding more like an animal than a no-nonsense business owner, "and I told Archie that he was right. That _you_ were right, even."

Ruby scuffed the toe of her stiletto on the sidewalk while her grandmother wisely said nothing. She had that way about her—harp on you when you're doing something wrong, but not rub it in your face when you came back with your tail between your legs.

"That Waxly man'll never be 'right', even if he banged his head on a 'right turn only' sign," Ruby's companion grumbled. She ignored it, mostly, as she smiled.

"Well, I talked to him about how I've wanted to change and…"she drew in a hefty sigh, "and whom I wanted to change for."

Spectacled eyes peered out in front of her as she nodded sagely, "and did you tell him about your so-called plan to 'Woo the Gentleman'?"

Ruby bit back a giggle, "I decided that that's best left unsaid. I can always tell him later."

"After the wedding," Granny stated, firmly.

"Yes," she joked, "after the wedding."

"Good. I've long hoped for grandbabies," the grey-haired woman smiled in satisfaction, "lots of them."

"I would love to say that 'we'll do our best,' but I'm still not sure if he feels that way about me."

Her grandmother paused to turn to her, frowning, "what do you mean? You said that you kissed, didn't you?"

"Ye-e-es," Ruby dragged out, "but afterward he said…that I needed to give him some time. To get used to the idea."

Granny snorted, "it won't take _that_ much time, if you keep kissing him the way you do."

"_Granny!_"

"I'm just saying, that boy's already halfway off the deep end."

Well, she wasn't about to argue with that statement. Especially coming from someone as honest and observant as her pseudo-mother figure was.

"Anything else?" the other woman prompted. Ruby shook her head.

"No. Just…" she bit her lower lip somewhat bashfully, eyes ducking away, "would it be horrible of me to say that I'm fascinated with his hair?"

Her grandmother stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before she barked out a laugh, "ha! No, no, it's not horrible at all. Particularly if he doesn't mind. Does he?"

Ruby grinned wolfishly, "he didn't seem to. And I can't keep my hands away from the stuff…"

"Say no more," Mrs. Lucas chuckled, "needless to say your children will probably be beautiful."

"Ha, ha, Granny."

"No, I really mean it."

They continued along those lines for the next few minutes, pausing only when they passed possible eavesdroppers. At one point they glided past Mary Margaret and David, discretely making their way another direction as the two of them had some sort of talk.

It didn't look pretty, and Ruby didn't want to think about the fallout she'd be neutralizing in a few hours time. Hopefully Emma would be able to counteract some of the bleeding. Then again, she had Henry to worry about right now.

Frowning, the waitress thought on the matter of Henry with a heavy dose of seriousness. She'd already been by to see how he was doing, but the monitor had shown no change. She really hoped that his allergic reaction wouldn't cause any…permanent damage. They just couldn't know for sure yet. The brunette sighed. He was so much like a little brother figure to her that she wasn't sure how she would take it should something bad happen…

"So," Granny interrupted her melancholy with soft-spoken words, "how does it feel to be a woman in love?"

Ruby blinked at the unexpected question, "I…I imagine the same way you felt about Grandfather, Granny."

But before she'd even finished the sentence the older woman was shaking her head, "I was never in love with your grandfather, Ruby."

She couldn't say that she was all that surprised, but still…"really? Not even a little?"

"Nope," Mrs. Lucas sighed and fiddled with the necklace resting against her collarbone. It held a tiny locket, she knew, holding mirroring photographs of Ruby and her mother. Taken when they were both sixteen years old, the two images were near reflections of one another, as similar in appearance as they were. Long, dark hair, striking features, mischievous eyes, "when I met your grandfather he represented many things to me, but love was not one of them."

This was a new, more open side of her grandmother than she'd ever seen before. The young woman was hesitant to continue, but attempted anyway, "well…what did he represent?"

"Security, mostly," Granny remarked in an offhand manner, "you have to understand, times were tough then. Wars and rumors of wars. One thing right after another. My family was all dead at that point, and society has never been kind to lone females, so there was no one else to turn to."

Her eyebrows creased together at the kind of picture this story painted and Ruby asked without meaning to, or thinking about the ramifications, "and what about him? What did he want from you?"

"He wanted…" she paused, then tried to shrug half-heartedly. But Granny's hand shook the tiniest bit within her gloves, "…he wanted _me_. To own me, to possess me. To be able to say that I was his. You've seen the pictures—I was quite a pretty little thing for a while. But I think that the best thing to happen to me was when he died."

Her blunt appraisal of the situation half-horrified her granddaughter but simultaneously gained her respect. To think that this stone pillar of fortitude had stood in front of her all of her life and she'd never known…

"Grandma," Ruby interrupted gently, so that the shorter woman slowed slightly in her walk, "I just wanted to say…thank you. And that I love you."

Only then did her façade crack, a single tear streaking down her cheek. Grasping the young woman's hand in hers, she pressed it once in love and appreciation before again drawing away. And that was enough for Ruby, for now. Granny had never been much for demonstrations of the emotional sort, particularly in public.

They continued onward.

The waitress cleared her throat, "so, you were asking me about what it's like being in love?"

"Oh, I was, was I?" the innkeeper smirked.

"Yes, you were," she stated, ironically, before continuing to forge onward, "and all I can say is that it's like…being wrapped in a huge blanket."

"A blanket?" Mrs. Lucas asked skeptically, one snowy eyebrow jumping upward.

"Yes, a blanket. Where you can't help but feel safe despite the storm raging outside," Ruby continued, tightening her cover over her shoulders as she imagined the feel of Archie's steady form wrapping around her, "like reading a good book in front of a warm fire, or hot cocoa after playing outside in the snow."

"Love seems to me to be an awful lot like Christmas…"

"It's also like falling asleep on the grass, in the shade of a tree. And catching fireflies in jars before setting them free," she continued, "it's holding hands and being cared about unconditionally and it's soothing like a breeze on a hot day. Or a sunset on the bay. And knowing that he would dedicate anything in his power to you, and that you would do the same."

"Mmm, hmm," she made a noncommittal noise, seemingly unconvinced.

"It's knowing that you get to have your best friend with you…forever."

Granny stopped at that, looking at her with her mouth agape. But minutes passed as nothing seemed to come out.

"Why do you ask?" Ruby finally teased, honestly wondering. But her expression dropped as her grandmother actually _began to blush_, of all things. She ran out of time to comment, however, when both of their eyes were drawn toward something rushing in their direction.

"Something's comi-."

By the time the elderly woman finished her sentence she was Granny no more, but Widow Lucas. And Ruby, lovely Ruby, was cursed Red.

~/~/~

Archie rambled about his office with a vague sort of smile around his lips, and a tune on his mind. It had been lingering since yesterday in a persistent sort of theme song that just didn't want to quit.

"_At laaaaaast. My love has come along. My lonely days are over. And life is like a song."_

The universe had somehow placed its thumb on his heartbeat's radio, tuning into the one song the represented all he was feeling. Love and appreciation and unadulterated _joy_. Of course, they would still need time to settle things down between them, figuring out where the boundaries were between friendship and…more than friendship. But the more he thought about that kiss, and her reaction to him asking for more time, the less waiting he seemed to require.

Ruby Lucas was his girl.

She was in the _process_ of becoming his girl. And the only one dragging their feet was him. Gosh, he felt like his life had become an episode of the Twilight Zone.

But with a much better ending than any of the episodes he'd grown up watching, he decided.

Still…it felt almost surreal. As though someone had found out everything he wanted in life and had handed it to him on a platter. There was his job, which he loved, Marco, Henry and Pongo. He had the white-picket fence, the steady work that allowed him to help others while getting weekends off. The only thing that had been missing was her.

It didn't take a psychiatrist or a psychologist to figure out when a person was lonely (particularly when that person was yourself), but he'd always assumed that he would make his way through life alone. He'd never been like Marco, hoping even late in life for someone special to enter in, and had settled for satisfaction rather than all-around happiness.

But Ruby…she was like pure, concentrated bliss. She exuded cheer, and now she wanted to be with him. Him, of all men. He couldn't even completely grasp the idea, no matter what he'd learned.

It was enough to make any man whistle while he worked.

Admittedly, there wasn't that much work involved. Today was Sunday, so by all rights he should still be at home, pondering the contents of the morning paper. But he still had some filing to do regarding a few cases that had backed up. Mostly due to his melancholy, confusion, and general avoidance of everything remotely responsible (outside of sessions themselves). But now he felt invigorated, willing to give everything a thorough clean before he headed home to walk Pongo and then skip on over to Granny's Bed and Breakfast.

He'd been invited to Sunday dinner—officially—and Ruby had murmured shyly over the telephone that Marco's attendance had been requested, too, and that he had accepted. Which meant that this was to be their first official introduction to the "family." As a couple. The only one they hadn't been able to reach was August Booth, Archie's fellow boarder. They'd tried to ring him up, but he'd only moaned through the door so they'd assumed that he was sick.

Archie doubted that he'd ever looked forward to anything as much as this dinner. He was a tad worried about Mrs. Lucas's reaction to the two of them (would she even approve of them, he wondered? After all, she had been rather irritable with him lately), but not overly so. If they could weather the town's shock and dismay then they could deal with Granny's dissatisfaction.

Just, one day at a time was all.

Whistling a happy little tune, Archie finished replacing the last of his paperwork when something abruptly slipped out, sliding under his long black couch. Frowning, he dropped to his knees to find it, flipping the sheet over once it was within his possession only to reveal a drawing in Crayon.

It was Henry's, he realized with a pang, and had a picture of two individuals. One was a man dressed in brown slacks, a sturdy brown vest and a puffy-sleeved cream shirt. He had uneven circle glasses and swirling orange loop-de-loops for hair, a child's rendition of the real equivalent.

The figure next to him was about the same height, looking like a tall, thin boy instead of a woman, as sometimes happened when children tried to draw someone of the opposite gender. But the boxy dress, scribbled-in corset, similar puffy sleeves and long red cloak were easy to identify. He'd opted not to include hair, assuming that she had her hood on, making the long face seem bald because of it.

Regardless, it was definitely Little Red Riding Hood. And apparently this was what Jiminy looked like when he wasn't busy being an insect.

Finding the image was a tad bittersweet, what with the boy being in the hospital under some sort of allergic reaction. The last he'd heard the young man was stable, if unable to wake, and he said a silent prayer that things would improve for Henry and his two mothers. He may not like Mayor Mills, but that didn't mean he wished any pain upon her. And Emma…Emma didn't deserve to lose anyone, especially after having been alone all of her life.

He sensed an upcoming conversation there in the future, should she be willing to open up about it, and hoped that everything would turn out alright. He could only keep himself from dwelling on the negative and looking forward with fingers crossed.

Turning to happier things, Archie smiled as he tried to imagine Ruby in that same outfit as the illustration and was surprised twhen wasn't all that difficult. Of course, she'd probably have to curl her hair for the part, or something, and underneath she'd most likely wear six-inch stiletto boots where no one could see them, towering over him. But the overall image was rather…appealing. Very Renaissance Faire-ish, but a delightful one nonetheless. And he could see himself wearing his opposite's clothing comfortably. There was no tunics or hose involved, which he was perfectly fine with.

And Ruby would probably get a kick out of him dressing up with her.

Shaking his head in wry bemusement at the sort of adventures he was likely to have in Ruby's future company, Doctor Hopper inserted the paper into Henry's file. He would talk to him about it—and the giant red heart surrounding the two figures—another day,_ when_ he was better (not _if_). For now he was just going to relax and enjoy Ruby's company.

Under the protective eye of her grandmother and his best friend.

Oh, _gosh_.

Chuckling wryly at the nervousness that erupted when it was phrased that way, Hopper shook his head and made his way for the door. Locking first his office and then the building itself.

However, as he laid his hand on the knob to pull his key out he was stopped with it in the lock. An itch at the back of his mind stated without words that something was coming, pricking every single one of his senses. And as Archie turned away from the now-protected door he heard the roar of wind in his ears, although it could very well have been just a gentle brush.

With what _felt _like the force of a jackhammer he was flung back, although his feet only seemed to shift slightly. But the emotional upheaval was worse than anything he might have been physically dealt with.

Marco. No, _Gepetto_. Oh, heavens, what had he done? The Elf Tonic…_and the puppets_. They were in Mr. Gold's shop. Mr. Gold who was _Rumpelstiltskin_. Wh-what had he done?

A hand went to frantically grasp at his tie, trying to loosen it as he gasped for air. But that was nothing compared to the horror he felt at the next thought that flew through his mind.

Ruby. _Ruby was Red_, just like Henry had said. And, oh, how could he have been so blind as to ignore it? But she didn't have her cloak! And there was Peter…He _had_ to get to the Bed and Breakfast.

Stumbling his first few steps down the sidewalk, the conflicted redhead's walk soon became a jog , then a run. He found Ruby and her Grandmother halfway between the Diner and the B&B, the latter bracing the former up as she continued in what already looked to be a severe case of hyperventilation. Granny—Widow Lucas looked up when he appeared, at first relieved and then uncertain. He wondered why for a second until she spoke.

"A-Archie?"

He blinked, then opened his mouth in surprise. Why didn't she recog—? Ah. Never mind, "Jiminy Cricket, Widow Lucas."

The uncertainty cleared up in the instant she heard his voice, easily pairing up what she remembered with what she was seeing now, "Jiminy. I'm glad you're here. She-Ruby…_Red_…she's had a bad spell, and…something's coming."

A shaky hand pointed the direction he'd come and instinctively Jiminy turned to look, only to feel his heart drop. Purple clouds hung on the horizon, far in the distance but moving fast. The last time he'd seen such an ominous sight had been…twenty-eight years and a lifetime ago. He felt his form fill with dread, but before it could petrify him Granny continued speaking.

"The villagers will be heading for the cottage. I mean_ the Bed and Breakfast._ It's the biggest place, next to the Nunnery, and they'll know that it's safe. It'll be instinct. The table…"

She trailed off as he took her granddaughter from her, placing one arm around Re-Ruby's waist and the other taking her hand so that she had something to grip. He nodded, firmly, and shoed her on with his jutted chin, "I've got her. We'll be right behind you."

"Good," she smiled, "glad to have you with us, my boy. Although you'll forgive me if I say that you're not looking much like yourself."

"Well, I hope that it's an improvement," he popped out mock-cheerfully, before he thought about the words.

Her long look over him, head to toe, made him blush, "always. Meet you at home."

"R-right," he stammered and then turned to focus on the woman in his arms.

Ruby had turned to clutch at his sweater vest with the hand not already gripping his, her breathing shallow and fast. Instinctively his training, real or imagined, kicked in as the arm round her waist transferred to her back, smoothing circles over the length of tightly-knotted muscle he found there.

"Re-Ruby, I need you to calm down for me. Can you do that? Just…calm down, okay," he received no verbal response to that, but took her tightened handhold as a sign, "n-now, you need to breathe in through your mouth and out through your nose. I don't have a paper bag right now, so w-we'll just have to make due. But you need to control your breathing. Just focus on the one thing. I can hold you if you need me to."

She staggered fully into his arms in response, hands gripping his neck and her dark brown hair in his face. Ji-Archie had to quickly recalculate their balance but somehow managed to get his hands about her waist in full, supporting the anguished woman leaning into him. He spat out the few strands of hair sticking his lips and caught on his eyelashes.

Her breathing was starting to even out, but as it did she started speaking between gasps, "Peter, oh, Archie, _I killed Peter._ I a-ate him. It's worse than Henry said."

"Shh-shh, I know, I know that it's bad. And I know that Henry probably sugarcoated it for you when you were Ruby," Jiminy murmured into her hair, beginning to rock them back and forth as his thumb flicked gentle circles against her back, "b-but there was good that came of it. You _have_ to remember. You helped protect Snow a-and James, and you defended the castle. You couldn't have done that if you didn't have the wolf."

"Dangit, Archie, I was a _murderer!_ I did horrible things. A-and it's going to happen again," she stated in fear, words starting to come faster and faster with every second, "I don't have a cloak and it's Wolfstime soon and I don't know what to do. And Archie, you're not a cricket any more—I'll eat you! I'll eat you just like I ate Peter and-."

"No, you won't," he avowed, firmly, shaking her slightly. Not much, just enough to jolt her out of it, "I won't let that happen. Even if it means selling Pongo to Mr. Gol—Rumpelstiltskin for a new cloak."

Her bewildered gaze blinked up at him, "but what would Mr. Gold do with a dog?"

"Exactly," Archie smiled as his distraction worked, raising his eyebrows. He spared a thought for the dog he'd just maligned but knew that he'd make it up to him later. Thank heavens the canine was at home, safe from all this madness, "which is why I'm going to need your help to figure out another way. But I can't do that when you're hyperventilating. Are you still breathing the way I told you to? Good, good. Now, let's head for the B&B. It's half a block away, not very far at all. Do you think that you can manage it?"

Her head bobbed in assent and they began their stumble the same way Granny had gone, step by difficult step. They'd made it nearly three-fourths of the way before Red again began staggering.

"Ar-Jiminy," she said, shaking her head, "there's no point in running. The moon, it'll find me-."

"Archie," he interrupted, turning her enough that he could grip her shoulders within his hands. She needed another distraction, and he had just the one for her.

Red blinked up at him, thoughts derailed as the man looked her dead in the eye, mouth firm, "just…Archie. Jiminy spent his whole life wanting to be someone else, but Archie found his way on his own," he shifted uncomfortably before returning back to his original place. Softer, but no less determined, "look, I'll be Jiminy with everyone else, but with you I just want to be Archie Hopper."

Her face had blanked of all expression as he spoke, but after the last word dropped it was as though she was surrounded by a sun-lit epiphany, full of more warmth than he'd ever received in either of his lives.

"Then I'll be Ruby," she said, lifting her arm in order to place a soft palm over his heart. And in that second something seemed to straighten in her. Red was being set aside for now, until she could deal with the past. For now there would be only Ruby and her ability to adapt and change. Archie released one of her shoulders to cover her fingers with his own, love and relief coming through, "you were the one that brought the best out of her anyway. And everything else was just a dream."

Yes, it was just a dream, for now. Puppets and wolves and cloaks and umbrellas. They were all a dream, which could be dealt with later.

As Ruby steadied herself more fully, finally taking to the breathing he'd shown her, the two of them leaned closer still, till their combined breath mingled. He knew that she was already short of breath after the panic attack, and could feel the tumultuous wind at their backs, rolling and malevolent, but wouldn't draw away even for that. Her nose brushed his once, twice, Ruby's intentions as obvious as his own, but only for a moment.

"Save that for later, you blasted fools!" Granny shouted over the onset storm, sounding like her good old medieval self again, "the storm's coming! Get inside now!"

She slammed the doors to the Bed and Breakfast behind her, and Archie began to withdrawn with some disappointment.

"We should probably get—_mmph!_"

Now that 'Ruby' was finally present, she wasn't having it. Pulling him down to bridge the short distance between them, she'd latched her grip on the edge of his collar, tie tangled in her fingers. The other hand was occupied with burying itself in his hair while she explored every inch of him. The psychiatrist held back for only a second before he moaned softly as her form molded to his. Until their two heartbeats pounded almost in sync, reverberating against their ribcages.

It was a toe-curling kiss, full of hard and soft contrasts, adoration gentling her motions for one second before she again picked up the pace in open need.

Somewhere in the embrace his self control had given up holding back and Archie realized with a start that he'd locked his arms around her, hands spread so that they spanned from her back to her waist, though they never strayed the ungentlemanly distance toward her hips, as other men might have done.

His apparent eagerness was her cue to loosen her grip so as soon as she'd let go of his tie that one found its way to his back, tracing spirals between his shoulder blades with her long crimson nails.

"What's taking you two so lo—what in blazes?" Granny's shock was like a splash of cold water and Archie jumped back to gasp in air before he even realized that he'd made the move. Nervously he coughed, and could feel his skin heating up worse than a sunburn on a redhead. Oh, wait…

An elegant hand squeezed his in comfort and the former Conscience started in surprise. Realizing, for the first time, that he and Ruby were still connected.

And they'd always be, if he had anything to do with it.

"Don't just stand there exchanging calf eyes—get inside! Of all times, honestly," Granny grumbled after the command. And, chuckling, Red and Jiminy—no, Ruby and Archie—followed through the door toward temporary safety.

But not before the counselor pressed a butterfly's kiss to the corner of her mouth. She looked delighted and girlishly bashful, as though that had been the first she'd ever received. And maybe it was, in a sense. A first (or third, as it were) in this strange new world as both Ruby and Red, neither one nor the other. He intended on giving her many more, for as long as they both would live—however long or short that was meant to be.

The left hand which drew him in, as she tried to regain her footing amid a crowd of former dwarves and fairies and townspeople, was conspicuously bare, he noted. He would have to rectify that situation. And what better with than a ruby?

She weakly dragged him into a relatively secluded corner of the breakfast room, the large round table looking all too familiar now—though not as massive as he remembered it being. There was only one seat left in the filled parlor and before he could do the gentlemanly thing and offer it to her she'd shoved him into the spot. Then climbed up on his lap.

A few individuals whose faces and names eluded him raised their eyebrows at this, despite other more pressing concerns, but said nothing. And as Re-Ruby's long limbs wrapped around his shoulders the psychiatrist blurted out words which were completely unplanned.

"Ruby, will you marry me? Will you…_and Red_…marry this old gentleman?"

Her jaw dropped, and immediately Archie's heart fell into his stomach. Of course she wouldn't be interested, he reasoned immediately. I mean, things are definitely different now, so—

"But…didn't you say that you needed time, Ji-Archie?" she queried quietly, breaking the silence. One of her hands had reached back to the front in order to lay flat against his chest, long vermilion nails tracing the pattern of his knit pullover.

The man's heart soared. And with the gentlest of adoration Jiminy's soft hands framed her face as blue eyes hungrily, lovingly took in green, "Re-Ruby, I've lived three lifetimes already, including the one as Jiminy the man, and I've adored you for two of them. I don't want to waste any more time." He paused, licking his lips, "and…w-we might soon have a war on our hands. I don't want to go into that knowing that s-something might happen and I didn't-."

Ruby pressed her lips to his. Better to just accentuate the positive.

**FIN**

~/~/~

AN: "At Last" is by Etta James. Put in as a direct cookie for you, Arwen Strife. Sorry I couldn't put the other songs in. ;D

"We won't sell the puppies. Not a single one." -101 Dalmations. Had to include that ref in there for Pongo. ;)

"The storm's coming," made me think of _Tin Man's_, "A storm's coming." Which if you haven't seen yet, you should. Seriously. All three parts. And then you need to watch Syfy's _Alice_. It's all kinds of wonderful. –nods firmly-

What's up with Granny, by the way? –coughs innocently- I, of course, have _no idea_. Nor have I created a separate one-shot to explain said idea. ^^

I'll probably include an epilogue to this, as a note—mostly because I don't want to make people worry about "Chapter 13" being the last one. –laughs- And also because, well, I want an epilogue. But what should it be? Post-battle, post wedding, post-children? Ideas are welcome, although I do have a few of them myself. :3 We'll see. I hope that you enjoyed this! Compared to the last chapter, it was a cinch. Written in two days rather than two weeks. ^^;

The version of "Ac-Cen-Tchu-Ate the Positive" that I had in mind was the one with Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters. 3


	14. Epilogue: You and I Both

The Gentleman

By Shahrezad1

Disclaimer: I don't anything OUAT-related. Although I do possess a few fairytale revamps of my own. :3

Summary: Ruby finally breaks down and asks her grandmother for advice regarding a certain foreign member of the opposite gender. Ruby/Granny conversation, followed by RedXCricket. Some Emma, MM, and other character involvement further on.

~/~/~

Epilogue: You and I Both

~/~/~

A dark head burrowed deeply into the pillows surrounding her, seeking instinctively for a reprieve from the light peeking through their paned window. What she found instead was another warm body, her long, thin nose nudging against the spine of her nearest and dearest. Ruby smiled even through the unconscious haze sleep had thrown over her, creeping her long limbs around a solid chest.

Once there they fiddled with the strings of his sleeping shirt, a thin fabric worn down with repeated use which was currently open at the neck. Revealing skin that was normally covered by a tie or vest or official royal garb—depending on which world they were in, really. Placing her hand over that open V she felt the thrum of a steady heartbeat, soothing in its reliability.

She couldn't revel in such closeness for long, however, as the bedroom door of their little cottage squeaked. Red froze, instincts waking her up immediately. But the abilities of a werewolf weren't needed when one already knew what was coming.

"WAKE UP! Wakeupwakeupwakeup!" tiny feet bounded onto the bed, landing on hair and legs and chest as she and Archie's children decided to become their morning alarm clock, replacing the rooster that Red had taken out the last time her wolf side demanded sustenance. Their youngest, a toddler, pulled itself up the sheets through sheer determination. Instinctively Ruby pulled closer to her husband, to protect the small swell of her belly, and he awoke with a sleepy chuckle, scooping up the two oldest of their offspring before they could do any more damage.

Which was Ruby's cue to grab the third one, a little girl as strong-minded as her mother and grandmother were.

"G-good morning, my little ones," Archie wheezed through bleary eyes and a hoarse voice. It always took him a little longer to wake in the mornings, especially with the onset of aging creeping up on him. But Ruby adored him all the more for it, her heart set on her lovely, wonderful Gentleman.

Even if his red hair was starting to streak with the tiniest traces of silver, she was apt to tease.

"Morning, Papa!" Selig chirped through a scraggly mess of brown curls. He looked the most physically like his father, with a round snub of a nose and chubby features that were sure to settle into something more serious as he got older. But for now he reminded her of a curly-topped cherub, as curious and intelligent as any child she could have hoped for.

At six years old he was at his best exploring stage, meeting and befriending any local animals he could find in the effort to search out ones that could speak, with little success. She'd been sure not to mention the talking cat Rumpelstiltskin and Belle had adopted.

Auburn-haired Victoria remained solemnly silent as she sat upon her father's legs, willing to let her older brother be her mouthpiece at the serious age of five. She'd not shown a particular affinity for anything yet, but simply followed her mother about the house being a silent little helper as Ruby's belly began to increasingly show. With her straight hair and freckles, she had more of Red's angular features and body type, but her blue eyes were her father's. The girl's mother couldn't help but wonder what kind of future she had ahead of her, particularly in this world so incredibly changed from the one that Red had grown up in.

The last and littlest (to date) was three year old Ruth, named after her grandmother just minutes after she was born. She'd had strawberry blonde hair from the start, a surprise for both of them until Widow Lucas explained what _she_ had looked like at the same age. And with lungs as strong as her great-grandmother's, the likeness had been too similar to ignore. So Ruth it was.

The little girl in question babbled on about something that sounded like 'unicorns' and 'Captain Hook' along with 'flying toast', ignoring her siblings in order to gently pat Ruby's belly as she said "hullo" to the "baybee."

"Henry and Emma and _Grace_ and Jefferson and _Baelfire_ and August are coming today!" Selig said excitedly, bouncing directly upon his father's stomach with each name. Archie bit back a groan but of course Ruby could see him wince.

"Y-yes I can see that. But from what they said, I'm pretty sure that they won't be arriving till a few hours from now."

The boy frowned over hazel eyes, lip sticking out in an irresistible pout, "but…Granny said to wake you up."

That caused both of the adults to straighten where they sat, Ruby with slightly more difficulty than Archie.

"Granny?" she repeated, dodging a frowning glance at her husband, "you can't mean…"

"Gran-gran and Gep-papa said so," Victoria stated gravely, and as soon as she'd said the words the door creaked a little more. Both sets of green and blue eyes dodged to the bedroom's opening where two familiar faces smiled indulgently down at them. Red's reaction was to immediately yank the covers up to her nose, eliciting a chuckle from the elderly couple.

"You probably don't need to worry about that, Red," Granny remarked wryly, with a sly little twinkle, "I day say we've all seen you in worse states of undress."

"Granny!" she hissed, flushing red as her oldest children frowned in confusion. But Archie only chuckled a bit and scooped up the boy and girl currently on his lap.

"Regardless, I believe that my _wife_," he paused, letting his eyes linger affectionately on her in a way that made her blush spread, "m-may need a few minutes to herself. How about the two of you make yourselves useful and…"

He deposited a child in each adult's arms, causing his pseudo-Mother In Law to roll her eyes and Gepetto to laugh.

"Of course, _il mio piccolo__papa_," the 'older man' teased. Jiminy clapped his longtime friend on the back and smiled as they finally gave the remaining trio some privacy.

Hands on hips, Archie shook his head in bemusement at where life had led them. It was a happy place, to be sure, but completely unexpected. With Regina reformed and powerless, but not dead. No, Snow wasn't her stepmother and she and 'James' had put their foot down when it came to that.

Most of the townsfolk had returned to their homes, their lives, and their realms. The Blue Fairy had retired after a long and difficult reign, Nova taking her place. And it had been Nova's first act of rule to change the expectations put on fairies—they could marry, have families, and fall in love so long as it didn't interfere with their Godmotherly duties. She and "Grumpy" had gotten "hitched" hardly a week after that, in what Emma termed a "Vegas Wedding."

Parents were reunited with children and children with parents, peace was made and dictators dethroned. They'd felt the springs of peace well within them after several lives of sorrow, and all was happy in the world. For now, anyway, and for this generation. Most of them intended to keep it that way. But who knew what would come with time, and what his children would deal with? His only hope was that they would be able to prepare them for the future, teaching his son and daughters right and wrong and then letting them choose for themselves.

He turned to face Ruby with an open expression which softened upon seeing her there, curled up in their little bed playing patty-cake with their youngest. Ruth seemed to sense his gaze first, looking up with trusting eyes, and only then did his lovely spouse turn and smile.

A shy, adoring look painted upon her face, as though she'd never been happier.

The red-haired Conscience, and now royal Counselor, swiftly swung their little strawberry blonde from Red's arms, causing a delighted squeal, before placing the child on the floor near the open door with a set of whispered instructions. The child nodded and toddled away before he closed the door again, locking it this time. And then when they were truly alone did he lean over the bed to kiss her lips.

"G-good morning, Wife," he stuttered in a gentle whisper, heart in his throat as his arms encapsulated her. She smiled up at him, curling long fingers into his messy hair.

"Good morning, Husband," she murmured back, eyes languorously half-lidded.

Archie smiled, a gentle swelling filling his chest, "and…and how were your dreams? Everything you'd hoped for?"

"Oh, yes," she sighed, "just like they always are," a mischievous glint interrupted the serenity, however, as she smirked, "I dreamt about a little boy."

Archie blinked a moment, thoughts derailed. Then huffed at her gentle teasing, "she's going to be a girl, and you know it."

"Archie," she said, grinning confidently from the loop of his arms, "we do this every time I get pregnant and every time I'm right. You _know_ that I can tell."

"Yeeees," he dragged out simply, "but this time I've got a feeling. I swear that it'll be another girl."

And with that he rolled back off the bed and toward their little wardrobe, a present gifted to them by Marco/Gepetto on their wedding. The thrice-used crib was yet another one of his trademark creations.

"Are you really that eager to be outnumbered?" she asked while stretching, nightgown pulling in a fashion that made his eyes linger, distracting him. Archie fingered his court jacket and cravat, trying to decide if the shades of orange and brown he was looking at would clash, and then ultimately deciding that he didn't care. Well, he might care if he appeared mismatched beside his bride, but not on his lonesome. So perhaps a dark forest green instead?

"I won't be outnumbered—Selig and I have each other. Plus there's Marco and his father, now that he's been…has come back. And Pino-Ah, I mean, August," he rambled, naming a few individuals.

"Extended family doesn't count," Ruby remarked wryly before pulling herself up with a huff. She sauntered over to where he stood, wrapping her arms around his torso from behind, so that her cheek rested against his shoulder blades and small, rounded belly pressed against his back. Jiminy responded by setting down the coat he was holding and resting his hands on hers.

"How about I just say…that I'll be happy with whatever we have," he remarked quietly, "as long as it's hale and hearty, and R-Rumpelstilskin is not in any way involved in the birthing."

She laughed, breath brushing his neck, "I think that I can handle that. Besides, I think that he's a little occupied with his own brood right now."

It had taken a few years but Belle, wife to the magic user that everyone had once dreaded, was finally pregnant. They hadn't dared use magic to find out if it was male or female, worried about the Dark One's taint upon the child's person, but Ruby could tell that it was to be a girl. An incongruous thought if there ever was one, that of Rumpelstiltskin raising a daughter.

She swatted his rear as she passed him to the wardrobe, deliberately stretching before him in a teasing fashion that she knew would make his blood quicken. Archie's lungs hitched, she could hear, and he rested his hands on her hips as she retrieved one of her many red gowns. This one had an empire-waist to accommodate her beginning stages of pregnancy and was made to match the green suit he'd selected.

"You'll l-look beautiful in that," he said softly against her hair, "always have."

"Why do you think I've kept it all these years?" she hummed happily, "you're the only man I dress up for anymore." Her fingers, no longer painted but still with the un-practical length she'd always adored, curled around his broad ones. But knowingly leaving a single digit free.

"I love you," Archie whispered before brushing her cheek with a kiss. His thumb rubbed a gentle circle through the layers separating them and something like a purr vibrated from her chest to him.

"I love you, too, Archie," she murmured, but was not to be deterred as she turned in his arms to buss his cheek. Then draw away, patting the spot she'd just shown love to, "now hurry and get ready or we'll be late for Henry's coronation as Heir Apparent."

~/~/~

AN: "You and I Both" is by Jason MRaz.

Selig means "Blessed," Victoria is of course, "Victory," and Ruth means, "Friend, Companion."

Why have all those adults visiting? Because I couldn't figure out who to pair up with Emma, that's why. XD –laughs- I'm definitely an EmmaXAugust fan, but also a MadSwan fan, and then there's been this rumor going around about the possibility of Baelfire being Henry's dad…well, who knows? So better to mention everyone, just in case.

As a note, they're not coming from the same place. Emma and…whomever it is are coming from our world, but Henry's been staying at the castle with his grandparents in order to learn the family business. –coughs- Jefferson is with Grace, wherever that is, and August has been hanging with…the dwarves, probably. Or Emma. If she ends up with him. Because it might get a little crowded living in a house with his father and his father's new wife, plus August's grandparents (?) whom are young enough to be his siblings (!). Same thing goes for Baelfire, since it's kind of awkward living with your dad and his very pregnant, very pretty new wife. Um, yeah. ^^;

That is seriously a set of really complicated family trees.

Gran-gran. If you got the reference, you deserve a medal. ;D

il mio piccolo papa: My little papa (translated by Google. Yay!)

Henry's coronation: I figured seven years was a decent gap in time. It means that there were a few months time for them to deal with Regina, then Archie and Ruby got married, then nine months down the line Selig was born. Making Selig about six years old and Henry almost eighteen, assuming that he gets to have his eleventh birthday in season 2.

**As a note within a note: thank you everyone for being a wonderful readership! I began The Gentleman as a one-shot affair, but it was your interest that sparked enough inspiration for me to continue it. Thank you so much for the adventure! And for keeping me awake during my math and animation classes. –coughs out a laugh- (Don't tell them that I was writing to stay awake, it might not go over well.) But I have to say, again, THANK YOU! There will be more stories coming, but I'm not sure if I'll enjoy them as much as I did this one. 3**


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